#when she says she's doing it for their daughter

[bi-writes]

I can imagine asking Ghost to take my daughter to the daddy-daughter ball, only not to be able to get rid of him once he brings her home.

"you what?"

you rest your forehead against your locker door, closing your eyes as you tune out the nonchalant voice on the other end of the phone.

he always cancels.

but this?

"y-you can't cancel," you say finally. "you have to go. you can't do this to her, are you fucking kidding me?" you put a hand to your forehead. "you're a fucking asshole. i-i bought her a dress. it's for fathers and daughters, i can't fucking take her. it's all she's been talking about, i can't believe you--!"

you kick your locker shut and take a seat, resting your elbows on your knees. he gives you another excuse, but you just blink away your angry tears.

"no. don't bother. in fact, i don't want to see you again. i don't want her to see you again."

you put the phone down, your hands trembling from how angry you are. you aren't even surprised that he's not calling you back.

he's never wanted her. never.

"sergeant."

the firm sound of your title immediately has you on your feet. you stand up straight, but you relax a little when you see it's just ghost. his head is tilted to the side, and he's watching you carefully from under his mask. you can't see his expression, but his eyes are intense. he's focused on you, very much so.

you wipe the few tears that are under your eyes, and then your phone pinging takes your attention away from him. you pick it up and curse under your breath, opening your locker again to grab your things.

"i'm sorry, lieutenant, i need to go. can i get back to you tomorrow?"

"it's pick-up time, isn't it?"

you freeze from putting your jacket on, eyeing him warily before zipping it up.

"yeah," you say finally. "and i have some bad news to deliver, so while i'd love to stay and chat, i really need to go."

"doesn't hafta be her father," simon shrugs, leaning up against the locker beside yours. "could be anyone."

you glare at him a little, "if you're trying to make some kind of crude joke about the lack of men in our lives, lieutenant, i'd be careful if i were you--"

you stop when he grips your chin tight between his gloved fingers. you blink, unsure of what to do, and he shakes your jaw a little.

"i could take 'er."

you frown up at him, too annoyed to notice how he bends a little more, his face nearly against yours.

"it's not funny, lieutenant."

"not laughin'."

"you..." you meet his eyes, deflating a little. "you...you'd...you'd do that for me?"

ghost merely clicks his tongue before letting you go. when you make your way to your car, he follows, and you try to hide your smile as you make your way home.

ghost exchanges his mask for something more discreet when you aren't looking. a black n95, but his eyes still kill the same. when you come back to the car with a little girl on your hip, she stares wide-eyed at the hunk of man sitting in the passenger seat. he raises a brow at her, saying nothing, and you swallow hard as you buckle her into her seat.

"uhm...this is ghost. can you say hi, honey?"

"ghost? like halloween?"

"like halloween, baby."

as you buckle yourself back in the drivers' seat, you side-eye ghost when you hear the crinkle of a plastic wrapper. when you peek into the rearview to reverse out of the parking lot, you see your daughter with a big smile on her face and a red lolly stuck in her mouth.

"always carrying around sweets, lieutenant?"

he shrugs. "maybe."

she makes him wait in the living room while you get her dress on (she wants a big reveal, coming down the stairs and all). you bought it off of etsy, a custom-made, princess-inspired dress. it has a big skirt of silk and tulle, with a big bow at her back, and when you look at her smile in the mirror, you feel that searing slice of something that makes you want to kill the man that almost ruined her evening.

she gets to do her big reveal. she spins at the top of the stairs to make her big skirt move, and then she's running down the stairs, giggling, laughing, and just as she makes it to ghost, he grabs her under her arms and tosses her into the air. she shrieks with delight when her big dress moves, and you bite your lip watching them. the sight of ghost hiking her up on his hip and commenting on her bow makes your mouth water.

fuck. have his arms always been that big?

they look funny. your daughter looks like the prettiest princess, and ghost looks exactly as he always does--like a SAS lieutenant. he might not have any of his gear on, but the cargo pants, thick boots, and windbreaker don't hide his physique.

"have fun, baby."

you come up next to her, kissing her face, and she clings to your superior, arms tangled around his neck as she waves goodbye. you give ghost the keys to your car, tell him to bring her back by seven, and then you pamper yourself while she's gone.

you drink a few glasses of wine. you take a hot bath. you pick a movie to watch and don't have to make sure the rating is at least PG.

when ghost finally comes back, you're laying on the couch with another glass of wine. pajamas on, blanket over your lap, and you smile when you see her passed out in ghost's arms as he closes the front door behind himself.

"asleep? already?" you giggle. ghost sets your keys down by the door before taking his boots off, and you watch intently as he carries your daughter up the stairs to put her to bed. you follow him, grabbing some of her pajamas from the drawer as he lays her down on the bed. you work together to get her little shoes off and shimmy her out of the dress, and as you get her into her clothes and back under the covers, she barely even moves. she's so tired, yawning and snuggling under her blankets, and you shut the door behind you, leaning against it as you blink up at your lieutenant.

he stares right back down at you. you reach a hand up and trace along the edge of his mask. it's quiet. inappropriate. he won't move away from you, and you won't move either.

you could get used to this. you could get used to watching more adult movies, drinking more wine, having time to fixed your chipped nail polish. you could get used to being bent over your unmade bed and fucked nasty.

you grab onto the crumpled sheets, arching your back more. your knees dig into the mattress as your ass hikes up, and ghost grunts as he uses your hips as an anchor and fucks into you harder. it's been ages since anyone's found your sweet spot, and ghost's cock is nudging it every single time his hips come back to meet yours. his thighs are nearly as fat as his cock, and you feel like your entire body is being rewired as he gives it to you so good, inside and out.

thumb against your clit, balls smacking your pussy, cock splitting you open--you used to think sex was made only for men, but maybe you just never found a real one to show you just how toe-curling it really could be.

if you thought it was good on your tummy, ghost shows you an entirely different feeling on your back.

it's so intimate. no one has ever looked at you this way before. his hands are intertwined with yours, and all you can do is cry and squeeze his hands as he sinks all the way inside of you and barely moves apart. in the dark, he takes his mask off, and you can feel the pant of his hot breaths as he grinds into you deep, slow, purposefully. the stimulation on your clit has your thighs shaking, and when you think the tears are too much, ghost flattens his tongue to lick them off before kissing you wet and languid.

ghost barely pulls out. he just circles his hips, punching back into you, and you see spots behind your eyes when he finally opens his mouth and groans into your ear. something about hearing his voice, hearing him falter, it makes you come. as soon as your cunt squeezes, ghost chokes, gripping your jaw tight and coming deep. you squirm underneath him, arching your back--he fills you up, so much so you can feel it spurting out around his cock and spilling out between your thighs.

you're too tired to protest when he sinks between your thighs after--you have to get clean somehow, right?

when you come into the kitchen in the morning, ghost is at the stove, your daughter on his hip and an egg frying in the pan.

he doesn't leave you when you take him back to work; and he doesn't leave you when you go back home. you should've known better, maybe. it's your own fault. ghosts like to haunt.

and this one is home.

[kashverse]

sukuna, for all his ruthlessness, for all his "king of the corporate world" nonsense, is a hopeless man when it comes to you. so when your birthday rolls around, it’s obvious what he’s going to do. "a thousand roses," he declares, arms crossed, smirking. "biggest fucking bouquet in the world. it’s gonna—"

"no."

he blinks. looks down. his daughter, all of five years old, stares up at him, hands on her hips, expression dead serious. "no?" he repeats, incredulous. "no what?"

she lifts a tiny finger. "no roses."

"the hell do you mean, no roses?"

"bad word!" she yells.

he sighs. "fine, fine—heck do you mean, no roses?"

she frowns, tapping her chin. "mama already gets roses. mama should get something cool." sukuna squints at her. "…like?"

his daughter suddenly beams. "LEGO!"

pause.

"…you want me to get your mom a lego set for her birthday?"

she nods enthusiastically.

sukuna, a grown-ass man, has never been stared down by someone so tiny and felt so defeated. "…fine," he mutters, rubbing his temples. "lego it is."

so that’s how he finds himself sitting at the dining table with his daughter at 11 pm the night before your birthday, helping her put together a lego flower bouquet.

"alright, gimme the little green stem—"

"papa, no! that not where it go!"

sukuna looks at her. then at the piece in his hand. then at the instruction booklet.

"…yeah, it is."

"no, it go here!" she insists, slapping his hand away and shoving the piece in the completely wrong spot. he stares at it. he stares at her.

"that’s not where it goes."

"yes it is," she says confidently.

"no, it fucking isn’t—"

"BAD WORD!"

he groans. "—no, it freaking isn’t!"

she glares at him.

he glares back.

…then sighs.

"fine," he mutters, leaning back. "you’re the boss."

"yes," she nods. "i am."

he exhales, watching as she enthusiastically shoves pieces together. she suddenly pauses.

"papa."

"what?"

"we add angel and labubu."

"why?"

"protection."

he stares at her. then, without a word, he gets up, goes to her hoard of sonny angels and labubus, and hands her two of them. she grins, placing them carefully on either side of the bouquet. "perfect," she declares.

when you come home, exhausted from work, you’re immediately ambushed by your daughter.

"MAMA!"

"happy birthday," sukuna calls lazily from the couch, arms crossed behind his head. before you can respond, your daughter shoves the lego bouquet into your hands, bouncing excitedly.

"LOOK!"

you blink, taking it in. a full lego flower bouquet, colorful, adorable, and—

"…is that a sonny angel and labubu?"

"yes!" she nods aggressively. "they keep it safe!" you laugh, heart swelling, before crouching down and pressing a kiss to her forehead. "baby, this is amazing," you grin. "thank you!"

"papa helped!" she says, beaming. you look up at sukuna, amused. "you built legos?" he grunts. "against my will."

your daughter gasps dramatically. "papa! you like it!"

"…i tolerated it," he mutters.

"you LOVE it!"

"alright, chill out," he grumbles, ruffling her hair.

you shake your head, placing the bouquet on the table. "best gift ever," you say sincerely, smiling at them both. sukuna watches you. then, quietly, he smirks. "yeah," he mutters. "best gift ever."

[nsharks]

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part thirty-one —other parts

pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader words: 4.8k tags: death. blood and gore. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. enemies to lovers. SA and implication of child SA (very subtle). summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival. a/n: if anything regarding the abuse or suffering of children, or SA, triggers you do not read. I wanted to tell you so there are no surprises.

The world sharpens as your senses return, zeroing in on the empty, crumpled sheet where Blue had lain beside you. She’s gone. Your deadened limbs failed her. Guilt rises, choking your dry throat. When your hands can move, you grab the pillow, pressing it to your face. A few hot tears escape. It smells like her hair.

They took her. 

She's gone— 

A gentle voice speaks, and a hand settles on your shoulder. Only then do you notice your body trembling. You lift your face from the pillow, staring up at Nereida. Her lips move, but her words don’t reach you. Something stirs inside you, deep in your chest, clawing its way toward your mouth. When the door creaks open and Salome steps in with a tray of dinner, it finally bursts free—a roar of pure rage.

“I’ll fucking kill you if you don’t tell me where she is.”

Salome startles, nearly dropping the tray as you fling yourself at the bars.

“I-I understand you’re upset, and I’m sorry we had to subdue you again, but it was only—”

“I don’t give a fuck! Answer me! Where is she?”

Her knuckles whiten around the tray, eyes darting away. “The child has... her own job, as we all do.”

Your lip curls. “Are you brain-dead under that stupid veil? Why take her? She’s a child! Why not one of us?” You lean closer, voice breaking. “If you want me pregnant so badly, fine! Do it now! Just bring her back—bring her back!”

Salome blinks, unnerved, her composure slipping.

“If you’ve killed her,” you hiss, heat flooding your face, “I swear to God, I’ll kill myself—”

“No!” she interjects, stepping forward, wide-eyed. “Don’t speak like that, I beg you. She... She’s alive. For now.” Her voice drops, reverent. “But Maman has plans for her. You must understand—Maman knows the Lord’s will. It is not our—" her throat bobs with a swallow,"Our place to question her decisions.”

“Alive for now ?” you snap. “What plans does that bitch have for her?”

Salome hesitates. For the first time, she looks uncertain.

She opens her mouth, then closes it. “I can’t... I mustn’t say. In time, you’ll understand.” She lowers the tray onto the floor and nudges it closer, staying out of your reach. “Please. You must eat. It’s only food this time, I promise. And the tea is for your bodies—to prepare you. Maman insists you drink it all.”

“You really think we’re stupid enough to eat or drink anything you give us?”

Her voice dips into a whisper. “I fear I... I must insist. If you refuse... I’ll have to tell Maman. She’s chosen to keep the males you came with because they are healthy and strong. But if she hears of your disobedience...” Her voice falters, and she tucks her hands into her sleeves. “There needn’t be any unnecessary deaths.”

Unnecessary deaths. 

The door clicks shut behind her when she leaves. You sink to your heels, spine against the bars, as Nereida reaches for the tray. Closing her eyes, a single tear escapes before she rubs her chest and exhales. With no choice, you both eat the braised beef and roasted carrots, though you bitterly imagine it tastes like the unseasoned squirrel meat you're used to.

The tea smells herbal and bitter. On your tongue, the taste makes you recoil.

"I think it's turmeric and parsley," Nereida says softly, taking another sip. "It's good for... regulating our cycles."

You stare into the mug, swirling the warm liquid inside. The urge to dump it on the floor flickers, but the risk of someone noticing holds you back. Instead, you take another sip, chasing it with food to mask the taste. Your thumb brushes the rim, finding a sharp chip in the ceramic. Pressing it deeper, the sting hums as a bead of blood wells up. You suck on it, brows furrowed, a half-formed plan taking shape. Without hesitation, you finish the tea and smash the mug on the floor, startling Nereida.

"Why did you—"

You gather the two biggest shards. "We have weapons now. Break yours when you're done."

"So what’s the plan? Stab her with it?" She shakes her head, frustration clear in her voice. "She’s dumb, but not dumb enough to get close enough for that—not after you just said you want to kill her."

"Well, it's something." Your lips tighten along with your hand on the sharp edges. "At least I’m trying to think of an idea instead of just—just praying my military husband comes to save me."

Her eyes flash with hurt. "I'm trying to think realistically instead of acting rash." She gestures to the broken pieces. "She just threatened to kill them if we do anything to upset this Maman person, and you go breaking the cup. You think they'll be happy about that?"

"I'll say it was an accident. I'm a clumsy female who just couldn't help myself."

"You're not thinking clearly, Twix. I know you're upset about Blue—"

“And you’re not?” you hiss. “We failed her. She’s just a kid, and we failed her. Who knows what they’re doing to her right now. We don’t have time to sit around waiting for Price. He’s not coming! Even if they don’t kill him now, you really think they won’t at some point? These people are insane.” Your voice drops lower. “They’re going to rape us, Nereida. Don’t you see that? They’ll wait for us to ovulate, then breed us like livestock to feed into their delusions. What happens when they find out you can’t have kids? You think they’ll keep you around? You think they’ll still ‘covet’ you?”

Moisture wells in her eyes, and she blinks. "I don't—I don't know. But what can we do? We can't reach her, and they won't open the cell without drugging us again. Even if we could get out, we can't handle everyone out there with just pieces of a broken mug." The tears spill quietly, and she stuffs her face in her hands. "You're right. I've always relied on him. I don’t know how to survive any other way."

Your face softens a little, and you breathe deeply to regain some composure. "I shouldn’t have said that. We’re both scared."

She whispers through the gaps in her shaking fingers. "I was never supposed to live like this."

You reach for her hands, holding them tight. "You were, or you wouldn’t still be here."

The words offer fragile solace despite how steady you force your voice to be.

The rest of the meal is in silence.

The helplessness in the room is suffocating, reminiscent of the week you spent alone in the woods, sleeping in trees and dreading the break of dawn. No—it’s worse than that. It feels more like when Ghost broke your bow and left you for dead, chewing on pine needles to soothe your empty stomach. Funny how this time there’s a delicious meal in front of you, and you’re swallowing it down only because you’re forced. You even have a real bed to slip into, a yielding pillow to rest your head on, yet the helplessness remains, unwavering.

"I'm sorry, Blue. I'm trying," you whisper, clutching the shards of ceramic and slipping them under the pillow.

You replay everything in your head: the lack of items in the room, the bolted cell door, and what Salome said— Maman has plans for her. The moon rises, and you remain awake, even as Nereida succumbs to fatigue. You force your eyes to keep scanning the dark surroundings, despite the lingering effects of the drugs threatening to pull you into sleep. There has to be something you're missing—maybe not in the room, but in Salome's words. What else did she say? You were so angry, you can hardly remember.

It feels like well past midnight when you hear a male voice outside the door and the shift of footsteps.

"Trois minutes, Hugo."

A low chuckle. "Trois minutes, c'est tout ce dont j'aurai besoin."

"N'oubliez pas de ne pas toucher. Et ne vous en vantez pas auprès des autres. La nouvelle se répandra et Maman ou Alexandre l'entendront."

The air shifts when the door parts. You launch up, inhaling sharply when a shadowy figure enters along with the faint scraping of boots. Salome? But broad shoulders give way to an unfamiliar man that steps into the sliver of moonlight, and panic sets in quickly.

Breathless, you rip the sheet from your body.

Nereida stirs. "Twix—?"

You rise to your bare feet, standing a meter from the bars as you take him in. A light smile plays at his lips, which might’ve seemed friendly if you weren't poorly covered by the barely-there slip dress. Unlike Salome, his face is exposed beneath the hood of his grey cloak. You make out a strong nose, ashen brows, and blonde hair. He looks to be in his thirties, much shorter than Ghost. He murmurs something in French beneath his breath that makes your hands clench, then reaches into a pocket in his cloak.

He retrieves three metal chains. 

In his upheld hand, the dog tags quietly collide.

Your breath hitches as his eyes flick to yours, and the moonlight catches on the engraved names.

"I'm a friend of your friends," he greets coyly in a hushed, strong accent.

"John," Nereida whispers, ripping herself up from the bed. 

The man nods, the subtle smirk tugging at the edges of his lips, but it fails to reach his eyes. They remain cold. "Yes. We've all grown rather acquainted."

"You've hurt them," you snap, grabbing Nereida's wrist and pulling her closer. "Cut the bullshit."

He wraps the chains tightly around his wrist before tucking them away, then looks at you in a way that leaves your mouth tasting like the dinner you just ate. "A female who bites. I will look forward to making you submit as a God-fearing woman should."

You clutch at the hem of the gown, terror whispering in the back of your mind from his words. Something feels wrong.

"Why are you here?" you ask measuredly. "I thought... it isn't the right time for us to... to get pregnant. I thought only women are allowed to see us right now."

"I've heard whispers of the new beautiful women God has gifted us," he says, his English choppy. "I wanted to see for myself. I've been... working hard to please the Lord, you see. Your friends are not so easily broken. Surely, in His eyes, I've earned just a glimpse."

Nereida tenses beside you. 

You rear a snarl at him. "Where are they?"

He holds up a finger. "Ah, ah, pretty face. You will have to let me see more if you would like to know. I have just three minutes with you. Two now that we've been wasting time."

Cold sweat coats your palms as his request sinks in, and you glance at Nereida. "I'll do it," you whisper. "You can just... just look away."

"No," his growl interjects. "Both of you, or nothing."

Even in the dark, her face pales. But when he pulls the chains back out and waves them around harshly, her hands dart to the hem of the dress and she peels it up without the chance to rethink it. You follow in stride, teeth gritted, as you scoot a step away from her and do the same, feeling the chilled air brush sickeningly against your bare skin. You've done this before, yet this time you are wholly naked under the stranger's gaze, and your hair is not long enough to conceal your breasts. 

When you hear him unbuckle his belt, you remove yourself from your body, mentally retreating to a far corner of the room to block out the horror.

"Tell us where they are," you press.

He chortles, breath catching when he grabs himself. "This land belonged to Maman's husband. It is a farm. New men we keep in the old slaughter house, by the barn, like the swine they are."

"And what about the girl," you interrupt urgently, "The young child who was with us. Why would Maman want to take her? Where else would she be keeping her?"

He grunts low. "I never said I'd answer about the girl, but if you touch yourself, I will consider it."

Your jaw clenches, teeth grinding. Nereida breaks, folding into herself and whispering, "I can't. I can't."

"I will," you whisper, your hand already sliding down your stomach, your eyes locking on his. "If I touch myself, will you tell me?"

His eyes narrow to where your hand dips unthinkingly between your thighs. You keep it there, doing what he wants, putting on the show that will make him talk. His shoulders ripple at the sight and audible groans bounce off the walls.

He clears his throat, voice rough. "I haven't heard nothing yet about the girl. But Maman says God’s punishing us... the land’s... sick. The wheat grows less and less. Only way to fix it—feed God's enforcers." 

"His enforcers?" you question.

"The démons."

"The Greys," you whisper, confusion flickering before clarity dawns.

A flash of the vermin-filled chapel plays through your mind—the bites in the corpse—and your hand jerks away from your thighs. The horror clicks into place, slow and suffocating, until all the color drains from your face. Blue... Is she an offering? An offering to God, just like the one you saw. They think the Greys are His enforcers. They will feed her to them. The thought claws its way through your head, and you feel a fresh wave of cold horror crash over you.

"When?" you croak. "When would Maman— feed them?"

"God's wrath... started on the sixth day," he murmurs absently, eyes rolling back. "That’s when we seek His forgiveness."

With a final grunt, his body jerks, and the spill lands on the floor. Bile rises in your throat, but you can’t even register it as you watch him stuff himself back in his pants and smear the mess with the sole of his boot, muttering something under his breath. You snatch the dress from the floor and stuff it over your head, legs wobbly. Faintly, you hear him laugh quietly.

"I can only pray I'm deemed worthy come the next coupling season. And when that time comes, I will be sure to choose you." 

B

Warm water kisses the back of her neck, and gentle fingers scrub soap through her hair. The woman bathing her hums softly, matching the rhythmic pulse in Blue's arm. As Blue closes her eyes, she tries to separate reality from nightmare, pressing two fingers into the clothed wound as if the pain will help her understand. She remembers the Greys coalesced in the old building, the chains used to restrain them, and the terror-blurred walk back to the small commune. After that, everything becomes hazy. She slept a little, she thinks. Was made to eat again. Then somehow, she ended up here, submerged in a wooden tub of lukewarm water, while a young woman quietly encourages her to dip her hair back to rinse.

"There. Time to dry off now."

There is the shuffling around as she fetches a towel. Blue crosses her arms over herself as she accepts it numbly, the air prickling her wet skin. Her feet land on cold tile floor as she dries off, the woman lingering beside the bathroom door with her head bowed. Blue feels like someone has strings coiled tightly around her limbs, puppeteering her. 

"Put this on for now." A light smile is offered as the thin gown is placed in her palms. "Maman will have a much nicer dress for you to wear tomorrow."

A puppet string is tugged, making her nod. "Can you... can you look away please?"

The woman turns and stares at the back of the door while Blue drops the towel and changes. 

Then she is taken back to the room she came from. The one she first woke up in, where the old woman's knitting needles still rest on the table. Morning light caresses the paintings on the walls, all oiled landscapes of land that looks similar to the one outside. The woman, whose name Blue thinks she mentioned to be Eloise, shuffles around the room, tidying things, before collecting the tray from breakfast. But when she glances back at Blue on her way out the door, her lips part in concern.

"You're bleeding."

Blue looks at the bandage on her arm, where red blood oozes in a trail, a bead dripping onto the floor from the tip of her finger. She frowns, confused, when Eloise sets the tray down to tend to the cut—as if they aren't the ones who caused it. As if the blood smearing her skin when she unwraps the cloth isn't the same blood they used to draw out the two Greys they brought back to the commune and locked up in a small shed. 

"I know you're frightened," the young woman whispers, her voice carrying an understanding that feels deeper than anything Salome ever said. Behind the veil, her eyes flick up to meet Blue's. "I can only pray God's mercy makes it quick." She dabs Blue's arm gently and rewraps it with a fresh strip of cloth.

"You mean they are going to kill me, right?" Blue whispers distantly. "With the Greys from yesterday?"

A glint passes through the woman's eyes, and she lifts her hands. "Yes," she says quietly, then leaves the room. 

Blue stands in the silence, eyes fixed on the drop of blood. She presses her heel into it, smearing it across the floor. Then, she moves. The fear she's carried since the old woman led her into the trees claws at her chest, but she swallows it. Trembling hands sweep over the room—checking the window, the locked door. The bed, the table, the paintings. Beneath the bed, only cobwebs.

A helpless croak escapes her lips as she collapses onto the bed, teeth clenched against the tears. Her father would never accept her giving up. Tomorrow they will kill her. She sits up, palms pressed to her forehead, knees drawn tight, dry sobs wracking her body. Through her tears, she notices the smear of blood from her heel left on the white linen. She flips over her foot and traces the dried blood with her finger, then digs her nail into the broken skin where the gravel road tore into her feet, seeking more pain—urging fresh blood to rise from the indent she leaves behind.

G

The last time Ghost was chained, he hadn’t known about the little girl who shared his blood—someone who truly needed him. Tommy was still alive then, of course, but he had his own family. If Ghost had succumbed to Roba’s torture, his brother and mother would have mourned briefly, held a small funeral, then moved on. The world would have forgotten his name. Part of him would have been pleased with that—but somehow, Simon Riley’s more stubborn side had survived.

That stubborn part of him refuses to close his eyes, not even for a second, because this time, he is fully aware of the girl who needs him.

With no windows to mark the time, Ghost can only gauge it by the man who beats him. The man alternates between striking him with a metal bar and taunting him with food and water, tossing them just out of reach so the smell can ignite pangs of hunger. There was once he showed up with an old woman, who clinically poked and prodded at Ghost's arms and abdomen, as if in approval. The longest absences of visitation likely indicate the man’s sleep, meaning two nights have passed since Ghost woke up here. His increasing difficulty in keeping his eyes open confirms it. 

Even through swollen eyelids, visions invade the darkness—four faces merging, their screams echoing, sharp and pleading. First, his mother. Then Sara. As they turn to ash, the two other faces remain, their screams fading into buttery laughter. Water splashes his cheek as they play in a creek, then their lips fall silent, and their faces sink below the surface. He reaches for them but can only stare as their eyes drain of life. Still, they remain accusatory. Disappointed. 

A slam of the door shatters the images.

"I think you will be pleased to hear the news I bring, Brit."

It must be morning. Ghost's gaze drops to the floor in persistent defiance, refusing to acknowledge him. His muscles loosen in preparation for the bar's routine assault, but a vein in his jowl ticks when he detects a new sound; the quiet slither of a whip against the concrete. 

Without warning, it recoils and lashes out with a sharp crack. The sting spreads through every nerve-ending, and he feels a gush of hot blood from the newly opened wound. A quiet, strained grunt slips through his teeth, and his chin dips to his sternum as pain robs him of the ability to hold it up. 

Casually, like a friend, the man hums, only his boots visible in Ghost's vision. "I saw them. They are well-kept, you should know, and they are indeed beautiful. A gift from God." The tail-end of the whip caresses Ghost's shoulders then slips to the floor soundlessly. "The child, though, I am disappointed to say she wasn't there."

Ghost stiffens.

His nostrils flare.

"Why wasn't she there?" he forces out.

"Ah. The child is yours, yes? The... fierce one was concerned for her as well." He bends, rubbing his jaw callously. "So concerned, in fact, that she was willing to show me more than I had even come for. Quite eager, too. Let me tell you what I told her—I know nothing of the plans for the girl. I can only guess, as you can, that they will not be pleasant."

"I will... kill... you," Ghost manages, his low voice thick with fury, each word a strained rasp through clenched teeth.

When his fingers twitch, weakly forming fists, the man pats his shoulder with a light laugh. "I will say, I am sorry you do not have a son, instead. Maman says daughters are the purest, most God-abiding of us all. With all due respect to her, this is where we disagree." He tilts Ghost's head back, locking eyes with him, his breath brushing against Ghost's face."They’re whores, all of them. Waiting to be bred. That's why the fierce one was dripping wet when she touched herself—"

In one swift motion, Ghost sinks his teeth into the first piece of flesh he can reach, tearing through skin. Blood fills his mouth, spilling between his teeth. The man jerks back, part of his cheek torn away, his eyes flashing with pure rage as he clutches the bleeding wound with his hand.

"You fucking, lowly swine." He spits out a mouthful of blood, then retracts the whip with a savage snarl. Another strike lands on Ghost's back—harder this time. Another follows. The blows come faster, until blood pools beneath his boots, and his eyes finally close no matter how much strength he tries to muster to keep them open. 

T

The sixth day.

If the Sabbath is the seventh day, then the sixth day would be Friday. The outbreak began on a Friday; God's wrath.

You trace the wrinkles in the sheet, trying to count back to the last day you can remember—back when Blue still announced the dates from the calendar Ghost kept track of. You recall it was the 12th of April, weeks ago. But what day of the week was it? Frustration bubbles up as you tear at the sheet, the harsh reality sinking in: you don’t even know how many days have passed since then.

Morning breaks in washed-out hues, accompanied by the low call of a nearby dove.

Growing content with the regular feedings, your belly hums in anticipation against your will.

"Ask her what day it is when she comes for breakfast," you tell Nereida. "We need to find out when Friday is, and you... you're better at talking."

Luckily, Salome either doesn’t notice that one of the mugs is missing or is willing to keep the fragile peace by not mentioning it. Again, she lowers the tray at an unreachable distance and slides it over. She lingers for a few minutes this time as you nurse a bowl of fresh fruit and sour yogurt, more mindful of how it tastes. But you don't suspect they have a need to drug you this morning—not with Blue already taken.

Nereida manages a bit of small talk, flashing a friendly smile you envy her for. It's enough to get a few pieces of information from Salome—mostly useless. She's about six months along, Maman suspects. There are two other pregnant women, and three infants already born over the years. A few have died during harsher winters, including this past one. The land is sick, that man mentioned. With a flicker of sadness, Salome adds that she had a miscarriage, and for a moment, you almost feel sorry for her.

But when Nereida asks about the day, Salome tenses, wariness creeping into her eyes. "Well, I forget the name in English, but it is the fifth day following the Lord's day."

"Thursday, you mean?" you speak up for the first time since she walked in. "I mean, Saturday is the seventh day. So the fifth would be Thursday."

Salome nods. "Yes, Thursday. Jeudi."

Then tomorrow is Friday.

The weight threatens to crush you.

When she finally leaves, you fling the pillow off the bed and flip the mattress, screaming soundlessly into it.

"We have one fucking day, and I have no clue how to get out of here."

Survival hinges on not panicking. Panic makes you weak. But still, your fingers curl into your hair, tugging desperately, trying to silence the hysteria rising inside you. For a moment, a silent prayer takes hold in your mind, mimicking the ones you overheard from Nereida. You screw your eyes shut in a pathetic hope that maybe when you reopen them, Ghost will materialize with the key on the other side of the cell. When he doesn't, you grab the nearest shard from the mug you broke. Nereida tugs on your shoulder, trying to calm you down, but you furiously press it against your wrist.

It's the sight of blood, not the pain, that makes you freeze.

Suddenly, your panic smooths into a fresh memory.

"She panicked, didn't she?" you whisper, lifting the shard and gently thumbing the shallow cut you've created in its wake. "When I threatened to kill myself. Her eyes—they held fear. Fear for what?"

You turn to Nereida and swallow thickly.

"Fear of... fear of us dying," Nereida finishes slowly, a pinch in her forehead.

"Fear of what would happen to her if we died," you say. "She seemed... scared when she spoke of Maman. Of course she is. She's the one responsible for us right now. What would Maman do if she can't take care of the two new coveted women?"

You reach for the next largest piece and place it in Nereida's hand, tightly closing her fist over it. 

"It might not work," she whispers, eyes darting across your face.

"It's the only idea I've got."

Over the next few hours, you smooth over the details in whispered exchanges. These are the only cards you have to play: the value of your bodies here and the power Maman holds. Nereida is uneasy at first but eventually grows convinced. Speaking through the plan helps soothe your nerves, keeping the walls from fully closing in. You remember that Salome usually arrives before the sun sets to bring dinner. So, when the window casts amber shadows across the walls, you suck in a breath, dig the shard into your wrist, and watch as blood spills onto the white linen.

“Three minutes, Hugo.” “Three minutes is all I’ll need.” "Remember not to touch. And don't brag about it to others. Word will spread and Maman or Alexander will hear it."

[saturnyukaa]

s4 amalia redesign. as a treat

[woso-dreamzzz]

Flag VI

Barcelona Femení x Child!Reader

Summary: You go for a visit to see the Barcelona team

Ingrid ignores the odd looks she gets as she and Mapi step into the locker room.

She walks straight up to Caro, a smug grin on her face.

"I've got The Baby!" She says gleefully, rocking her body side to side as you giggle.

"Mapi," Patri whispers," That's not a baby. Your girlfriend knows that, right?"

"That's y/n," Mapi says in answer, hanging up her bag," She's Frida and her girlfriend's daughter. Ingrid's her auntie."

"Maanum, right? That Frida? What's she doing in Barcelona?"

"They're having a little visit before they go to Tenerife. Ingrid volunteered us for a sleepover last night."

Patri winces. "Was it bad?"

"She's delightful actually," Mapi answers," Ate all her dinner without complaints and had a cup of warm milk before bed. Most well behaved kid I've ever met."

"Caro!" You say happily," Caro! Caro! Caro!"

Caro smiles a bit awkwardly at all the attention, at the way you're trying to fling yourself out of Ingrid's grip and into Caro's arms.

"Hey, squish," She says," You're looking good."

"Caro!" You continue," Caro, cuddles, please!"

Caro takes you from a slightly put-out Ingrid's arms, bouncing you stiffly for a moment as you try to attach yourself to her.

It looks like Marta is trying to force herself not to coo at the sweet scene as you babble at Caro, rushing through everything that's happened in your life since you last saw her.

"This is so unfair," Ingrid complains as she sits down in her cubby, arms crossed over her chest as she watches longingly while you show off your new Barcelona shirt to Caro and Marta," I'm the one that she had the sleepover with. I can't believe she's gone to Caro...Again!"

"Again?" Pina snickers.

"Caro's her favourite at camp too," Ingrid continues," I don't understand how! I'm the one that always buys her new toys! I spoil her!"

"You're jealous of Caro because she's getting more attention from a child?"

"You don't understand, Jana," Ingrid says dismissively," Squish...Y/n...She's...She's such a little sweetheart and she's so nice and she has so much love to give."

"Mama says Caro has a soft spot for Maanums," You're telling Marta as you happily soak up the attention," And that if I'm scared at camp and can't find her or auntie Ingrid, I have to go to Caro because she's responsible and won't let anything happen to me."

Caro's face glows red at the statement and she tries not to meet the teasing eyes of her girlfriend.

"And you really like Caro a lot, huh?"

"Uh-huh! Caro is the best at cutting up my food small!"

"Really? What else is she good at?"

"She makes sure I'm wearing my hat when it's snowing at camp! And! And last camp, she took me to the vending machine to get cookies! But you can't tell my Mama because I wasn't meant to have any."

Marta laughs. "I won't." She grins at Caro, bumping her girlfriend with her hip. "I didn't know you were so good with kids."

"I'm not," Caro says stiffly," Just The Baby. She's cool."

"I think you're cool too, Caro!" You giggle.

Ingrid doesn't end up with custody of you again until after lunch when Caro goes off on a phone call and Ingrid can snatch you up again without anyone getting in the way.

You giggle as she litters kisses on your cheeks.

"There's my squish again!" Ingrid laughs," You came back to me!"

"Ingrid," You giggle, feet kicking out instinctively," I always come back!"

"Oh! I missed you so much!" She pulls you into a hug that you reciprocate quickly.

After Frida and Emma, you think Ingrid gives the best hugs. Even better hugs than Emma's dog Jordan and he's one of your favourite huggers in the world.

"And who's this little girl?"

"Alexia, this is my niece, y/n. Squish, this is Alexia, she's the captain of Barcelona."

You frown. "Like how Kim's the Arsenal captain?"

"Exactly like that."

You grin, face splitting open as you show off your dimples. "Hi, Spanish Kim! Oh...er...Ingrid...what was her name again?"

"Alexia."

"Hi, Alexia! It's nice to meet you."

Alexia can't help but smile as you hold your little hand out for her to shake.

"It's nice to meet you too, y/n. I didn't know Ingrid had a niece."

"She and my Mama are friends!" You explain," But we don't see each other a lot because I live in Sweden."

Alexia pulls up a chair, settling into it and leaning a bit closer so she can hear your properly.

"Really?"

"Yeah with Mummy and our dog Jordan. But then Mama brings me to Norway when I'm on camp so I can see Ingrid and Caro! They say I'm the team baby!"

Alexia laughs. "That sounds about right, you're still very little."

"I start school soon," You tell her, puffing out your chest," And Mapi told me last night that I'm a growing girl!"

Alexia nods along. "Of course you are! And you know what growing girls get in Barcelona?"

"No?" Your eyes go wide. "What do they get?"

"They get to choose things out of the vending machine!" Alexia tells you seriously as she offers her hand," Do you want to pick some stuff out with me?"

Ingrid sighs deeply as Mapi snickers. "Next time we get her for a sleepover, we're not coming into training the next day."

[agwitow]

Once the obvious idiots are gone, he rotates through Katara, Toph, Mai, and Suki every month or so. Each has her own special way of handling the more subtly sexist advisors.

When Katara is there, the advisors get one chance and then, oddly enough, find themselves unable to even blink on their own. This results in two of them being sent to deal with some issue that is very likely to result in death or injury. The one survivor chooses to retire once he makes it back.

Toph, the poor thing, bravely tries to make and serve the tea to them all (isn't she such a sweet girl). It's truly unfortunate that the only ones who get scalding hot tea poured on them are those who kept praising her for being a sweet girl trying her best.

When it's Mai's turn, the advisors are on their best behaviour. She has a lot of sway in the Fire Kingdom, and the advisors are starting to realize that these guests have a slightly different agenda. Mai is perfectly demure (minus a few eye rolls and sarcastic remarks) and causes no issues during the meetings. It isn't until a few days later that the offending advisors come home to find their wives and daughters have gone on vacation. And taken all the servants with then. All that's left are notes suggesting the (temporarily) abandoned husbands learn to make tea, so they don't miss the women too much. Those who don't shape up end up having to step down as advisors due to issues at home requiring their full attention.

It took quite a bit of convincing to get Suki to agree to help out. Three days into her month, Sokka dons the garb and replaces her. He relentlessly flirts with everyone there. The advisors who notice take one look at Zuko's face (he's been trying not to laugh since Sokka first walked in) and decide to just ignore the shenanigans. Those who don't notice get dosed with cactus juice. They are required to step down after their shockingly inappropriate behaviour.

By now, 3/4 of the advisors have been replaced. Takiko is no longer the only female advisor. In fact, almost half are women.

Aang shows up without notice, disappointed he wasn't asked to help out. He sits there, arms crossed, pouting, without saying anything the entire time. Zuko ignores him until the meeting ends. He greets Aang with all formality and thanks him for coming to oversee the council so they do not repeat Ozai's mistakes, then asks if he'll join him for some tea. Aang sighs, then nods. The two, somehow, are able to keep straight faces until they're on their own.

The few remaining old guard unwilling or incapable of changing submit their resignations the next day. If all these women weren't enough, now the dragon-damned Avatar is auditing their meetings?! Their nerves just can't take it anymore.

My favorite thing about fanfic Zuko is that he just does not have a reference point for sexism. Like:

Some person: isn’t that women’s work?

Zuko, thinking of Azula, Mai, and Ty Lee: women’s work? You mean homicide?

[wtfaniii]

Paternal Instinct

squid game men's x daughter reader

☆ As the title says, this is gonna be a little bit paternal, like, I'm sure they'd be the best when it comes to children (sometimes)

☆ I will put imagines in and out of games and depending on the character the reader will be of different ages.

☆ The next thing I'll post will be a request from Thanos

Hwang In-ho

● Outside of games.

You, being a teenager in this world that your father dragged you into after your mother's death, were complete chaos.

You worked as a supervisor at his side wearing a mask with the figure from the square depicted in the center and despite being part of an organization of sadists you have not killed anyone, In-ho made sure you did not have to.

You walked into your room and removed the mask from your face as let out a long sigh, it had been a long day overseeing the creation of the games that this year's participants would cross and now all you wanted to do was sleep but as soon as you dropped your body onto the soft mattress, the door opened.

In-ho, without his frotman suit, entered your room with a small cake in his hands and the candles lit.

True, it was your birthday, ¿how come you forgot your own birthday? Maybe it's because you spent the day planning the deaths of innocent people.

—I asked for this cake to be made for you —In-ho said with a small, almost imperceptible smile.

They weren't as close as before, but he cared about you and tried to pay attention to everything that had to do with you.

—Thanks —you forced a smile as you sat on the edge of your bed —But it wasn't necessary.

You wanted to take it back when you saw the slight grimace on your father's face but couldn't, you simply weren't in the mood to celebrate your birthday under these conditions, your life wasn't the best and although you didn't hold any grudge against In-ho sometimes you wondered what your adolescence would have been like if he had left you with your uncle Jun-ho and your grandmother.

—I know you think that, you can say it —He said, leaving the cake on the table next to your bed.

—¿Why didn't you leave me with Jun-ho? I don't want to live here, I've had enough with my mother's death without seeing you become a puppet for these games.

In-ho sighed and looked down, you were right, he should have left you with his brother, he could have taken better care of you than he was doing but he didn't want to abandon you, he had already lost the love of his life, he couldn't lose his little world after that.

—You are the only thing I have left —He responded with regret —Believe me, I considered it, letting you have a life you deserved but I couldn't just watch you through cameras ¿Do you think bringing you to this shit was my first choice?

You didn't respond, you just hugged him and let him return the gesture, you still didn't want to continue living there but you didn't want to leave him alone either, after all, both only had each other.

After a few minutes of silence you looked back at the cake and smiled softly.

��¿Is it chocolate?

—dark chocolate, your favorite —He left a fatherly kiss on your head and took the cake again to put it in front of you —Blew out the candles and make a wish

The smile on your father's face was enough to ease your worries for a few moments, you blew out the candles hoping that one day these games would end.

● Inside the games.

In-ho's plan was going just as he thought, he approached Gi-hun and began to gain his trust but seeing you walk towards them among all the players made his heart skip a beat.

—¿Can I be on your team? —You asked with a smile that showed your white teeth.

—¿How old are you, girl? —390 asked with a surprised expression.

—Twenty —You replied naturally, playing with your hands, but In-ho snorted and took two steps towards you.

—No —He looked at you witheringly —No —Now he turned to see Gi-hun's team —She is sixteen, no twenty ��What are you doing here?

He ended up looking at you again, he really didn't want you to be here and worse because his lie along with his fake name Young-il would fall apart but you were smart.

—¿Do you know each other? —Asked 388, who you found cute almost immediately.

—Yes, he is a friend of my father

—¿What are you doing here? —In-ho asked again, almost desperate to get an answer. You disobeyed him and you can be sure that you will be grounded until you turn thirty.

—The same as you —You answered firmly and defiantly, your smile challenged him because you were sure that he wouldn't scold you or his whole false theater would fall apart —¿Can I be on your team?

—Sure —Dae-ho replied, smiling kindly at you.

You smiled at him too, but with other intentions, just to irritate your father a little and take advantage of the fact that he couldn't scold you now.

—Thank you —you said with a flirtatious smile and a wink, to which Dae-ho lowered his head in embarrassment.

—Sixteen —In-ho repeated with slight annoyance and a tense smile.

Dae-ho tensed and raised his hands in a sign of peace and took a step back, he was just being kind but it was better to be safe than to have to face that man who kept looking at you with annoyance and reprimand.

You would be a problem for your father because not only would you challenge him at every opportunity you had but you would also try to help Gi-hun end these games, that was your wish and nothing was going to make you change your mind.

The Salesman

● Outside of games.

The morning was calm, everything was silent and through the window you could see the clear sky with the sun shining, a good climate but a great contrast with the interior of your home.

The walls were wallpapered and the floor was shiny, you placed your hands on the cold marble table while your father placed a plate with a mountain of pancakes in front of you.

—Breakfast is ready —he said with a wide smile.

A polite smile, but most of the time it conveys coldness and threat. For you, this expression was genuine affection.

—¿Aren't you going to have breakfast with me? —You asked curiously watching him wipe his hands with the kitchen cloth and then fix his hair and walk towards the refrigerator.

—I would love to stay pumpkin but you know I have to go to work —He replied without paying much attention to you —After finishing your breakfast you take off your pajamas, get dressed formally and wait for your teacher to arrive.

You nodded silently as you used the fork to bring a piece of pancake to your mouth.

Life was monotonous.

Every day, you got out of bed to make it, had breakfast that your father prepared, bathed, combed your hair and got ready to take your private lessons at home, did your homework and at night you watched an exact hour of cartoons, brushed your teeth and went to bed.

Your father was a very organized man when it came to your schedule, you remember how one time you watched five extra minutes of television and as punishment he locked you in your room for five hours.

“Television melts your brain”

Despite everything, he loved you, you knew it, he just had a strange way of letting you know.

—I'll be back tonight, I love you pumpkin —He said approaching you to leave a kiss on your forehead.

He was a good father, but you didn't know anything about what he was doing out there.

You didn't know that he recruited and investigated people who would die playing for money or that sometimes he took on dirty jobs that his boss sent him, you didn't know what kind of person he really was and that was what the salesman wanted.

He adored you and that's why he avoided at all costs that you knew about the double life he led, he didn't want to hurt you.

However, there were certain mistakes that he regretted, one for example was that he himself had killed your mother as soon as you were born, he knew that she would want to run away with you, she did not want to continue living the life she had at his side and that was why he had to put a bullet between her eyes.

He didn't let her take you away from him, you were his daughter and even though he locked you up practically every day, he convinced himself that it was only for safety.

He only let you go out for a walk in the park and shopping malls on your birthday, once a year.

Despite how boring your life was, everything was going well until one night you heard moans and sobs coming from below your house.

You rarely heard them and this time you were very curious, you got out of bed, put on your slippers and left your room.

You silently walked down the stairs as the noises grew louder, when you reached what seemed to be the source of the sound, you saw that it was your father's secret room, a door that led to the basement was always locked, but this time... it was open just a little.

—¿Daddy? —You called him softly as you opened the door.

As you walked down the dark basement stairs, sobs mixed with opera music filled your ears, sending a shiver of fear through your entire body, you hugged your teddy bear tighter.

—The probability of dying is one in six and of surviving five in six —You heard your father's voice.

He explained with a polite smile, it was a great contrast to the situation was in, he liked to feel the adrenaline of this game and that way he could also get rid of these two men who had been following him during the day.

However, when he saw you at the bottom of the stairs with a scared expression and on the verge of tears, his smile faded and hid the gun behind him.

—¿What are you doing awake? It's past your bedtime and I told you a hundred times that you weren't allowed to come in here.

He spoke sternly and angrily, the two men he had tied to a respective chair began to make desperate sounds to get your attention, as if you were the only way to get out of there.

—¡Silence! —He shouted furiously making you jump a little in your place, you hadn't seen this side of him —Go to your room, ¡now!

Once you ran out of there, he took out his gun again and pointed it at the man in the red shirt. He was the one who made the most noise and that's why you woke up.

—Excellent, y'all traumatized a nine-year-old girl —He said with a tense smile

Although it was also his fault, he knew that at any moment you would discover his work anyway, but he hoped that wouldn't happen soon.

After you returned to your room you couldn't sleep, a couple of hours passed until your father opened the door and cautiously entered.

—You were disobedient —he began in a serious voice —And as a result you saw something you shouldn't have.

You were still lying face down with your face hidden in the pillow, he still had the loaded gun in his hand, he knew what had to do or else you would cause trouble.

But him couldn't.

The ease with which he killed his father was surprising but he couldn't kill you, you were the only thing that gave this home humanity and the mere thought of ending it made his stomach turn.

He clenched the gun in his hand and twisted his lips, after a long mental battle he put the gun in his pants and sat next to you.

—There are many things that you still won't understand, but what you can be sure of is that I am your father and I love you —With his hand he caressed your hair and felt you relax a little. —No matter what you saw down there, you will still be my daughter, but there will be some changes in this house.

You remained silent, you felt distrust but he was still your father, he was the only thing you knew and even if you were afraid of him you couldn't leave there, you had nowhere to go.

After a few minutes you sat up in bed and hugged him for comfort. He just caressed your hair and kissed your head.

Hwang Jun-ho

● Outside of games.

Being the daughter of a police officer had its advantages and disadvantages.

One advantage was that you could brag about it whenever someone bothered you at school, including teachers, and a big disadvantage was that you rarely got to spend time together as a father and daughter.

Jun-ho worked constantly but he also tried to keep an eye on you. "She's your daughter, before you know it she'll be your age," his mother constantly repeated to him reproachfully, she was right, time was flying and if he continued looking for his lost brother or working double shifts at the police station he would miss more years of your life.

For that reason, he decided to leave work early that day, and went to buy two hamburgers, some chips and candy while he thought of some fun activity to strengthen the family bond.

But when he got home he found you sitting at the table next to your teacher.

He twisted his lips, assuming you had gotten into trouble.

It was no surprise, you missed some classes, you didn't bring homework and your grades weren't the best but you were a great girl in terms of your behavior, just very distracted and Jun-ho couldn't help but feel guilty about that behavior on your part, yeah, sometimes you did it to get his attention.

After talking for two hours with your teacher she left and your father looked at you tiredly.

—You haven't taken any algebra classes, if you continue like this you'll fail the year.

You formed a fake smile on your lips.

—The teacher hates me —You stated, getting up from your chair to go towards the bag that your father had brought. —You left work early.

—I thought I'd do something fun, you know... father-daughter

You saw him with a raised chest, it was not usual, it was already customary for Jun-ho to spend most of the day outside the house, either looking for your uncle or immersing himself in his work.

—¿It's a holiday and I forgot? —You asked funny and sarcastic, turning around to get a juice from the refrigerator.

—Funny —he responded falsely —Now bring your notebooks, let's study together.

It was not the entertaining activity that he had in mind but if it brought them closer as a family it was an opportunity that he would not waste.

—¿Oh really? I mean, I already missed the school year anyway.

The look on Jun-ho's face let you know that he wasn't joking, they were going to spend the next four hours studying numbers and equations.

You really thought it would be a waste of time but it wasn't like that, as the conversation about algebra flowed the confidence did too, Jun-ho had been absent many times but this help made you remember that no matter what happens or how, no matter how big or small the problem is, he will be there for you.

● Inside the games.

You were stubborn, you always disobeyed any order they gave you, even if your father asked you not to get involved in his affairs you ignored him because were family and you should support each other.

The last few days you had seen Jun-ho more worried and anxious than normal, so you decided to follow him and find out the reason for his current state but you didn't imagine that it was something related to the disappearance of your uncle In-ho, apparently he had already got some clues and you wanted to help him.

He scolded you when he discovered you and warned you not to get involved, he even went to leave you with grandma with the excuse that he would be away for a couple of days but you escaped through a window and followed him again.

That led you to where you were now.

Your bare feet were sweating and your hands were shaking, you tried to avoid looking down through the glass you were in but curiosity got the better of you and you looked down into the void.

You were terrified.

The night you followed your father, one of the men dressed in pink with a circle mask discovered you, left you unconscious and when you woke up you were wearing a green uniform with the number "455" lying on a bed and surrounded by several people who dressed the same, you thought it was some joke, you didn't know what you had gotten yourself involved in, and when you saw that had to play a series of games to avoid being killed, you felt as if the soul was leaving your body.

You looked for your father among all the players but you couldn't find him and shortly after you learned that he had infiltrated the guards, he told you when he came in during a fight between players and was able to talk to you for a few seconds.

—I don't want to die —You murmured fearfully as you heard another glass breaking accompanied by a scream.

—You're not going to die, you have to relax —218 spoke behind you, you were one of the last to cross these crystals and you were more than grateful for that.

You gulped and continued jumping to the next crystal that fortunately had already been tested by another player.

Meanwhile Jun-ho felt his stomach turn and his heart beat like crazy.

He tried to maintain a firm and calm posture, he was still an infiltrator and he couldn't let them notice his concern, but seeing you there between life and death made his heart stop.

One of the so-called "VIP" with a gold mask called him to serve him more liquor and he obeyed, however, the conversation that these people were having about the players made his blood run cold, they talked as if they were just entertainment, some circus animals so that these people could have fun as spectators, but what caught their attention the most was the way they talked about you.

"She looks about fifteen years old" one said with amusement "I say sixteen" spoke another.

Wrong, you were thirteen years old and Jun-ho felt like the worst father in the world for letting you get involved in this.

—¿Will sell the body if she dies or will they cremate it? —One asked interestedly and earning laughter from the rest, Jun-ho only felt nauseous listening to it.

Jun-ho returned to serve liquor to one of the masked men but when he heard a glass break followed by a female scream that he immediately identified as your, he turned around and felt his world collapse.

Where you were previously standing was now 218 with the gaze lost downwards and the body tense, when it was your turn to decide between the two crystals you refused, you didn't want to do it and saw the man who helped you survive each game was there behind you ready to push you.

Another breaking glass caught the attention of the guests, guards and the frontman, Jun-ho had dropped the tray with everything and bottle of liquor.

—I apologize —he murmured, bending down to pick up the mess of broken glass, taking advantage of the fact that no one could see his face, he shed tears of pain.

[...]

A few months had passed after living that nightmare in the games, Jun-ho left there with a bullet in his shoulder and with the disappointment of discovering that it was his brother who was leading all that, but also thanks to that you left alone with some broken bones.

In-ho recognized you instantly and made sure that you could get out of there alive, when you fell from that glass platform your body did not fall directly to the ground, the blow was cushioned by a pad that had been placed specifically for you.

He pretended you were dead and sent you to the hospital, When Jun-ho found out that you were there, he cried with happiness knowing that you were still breathing.

He walked into your hospital room with a set of clean clothes in his hands and when he saw you sitting on the bed eating Jell-O and watching TV he couldn't help but laugh.

—For you this was a vacation.

—Falling from a great height brings its advantages —You said with a triumphant smile, you had gotten rid of many exams and schoolwork.

He always apologized to you for everything you had to go through, from that day on he stopped looking for In-ho (or at least he did it secretly from you) and he was more attentive to you, he took you to school, he was never missing to any event that was special for you and he promised to put you ahead of everything.

Seong Gi-hun

● Outside the games.

He's not the best father but he tries.

You were standing in the forum of your school wearing a dark blue robe and the characteristic mortarboard on your head, in your hands you held your diploma and tried to smile for the camera of the photographer that the school had hired.

You still looked between the seats in the stands for your father but there was no one, your mother had gone with your sister to the United States with her new husband and you had stayed here because you didn't want to abandon Gi-hun.

You formed a grimace on your lips and looked down with sadness and disappointment until suddenly you heard him voice among the people and you looked up again.

—Yes, my daughter just graduated, ¡Oops! Sorry if I stepped on you —He spoke embarrassedly as he crossed the row of people to get to his seat.

You laughed softly and inevitably raised your hand to greet him and get his attention even though your teacher scolded you.

Gi-hun carried a beautiful bouquet of flowers and a gift box in his hands, he sat in his respective place and smiled at you affectionately.

To be honest with himself, he had not planned to come to your graduation, he would apologize to you later by taking you to eat, giving you a gift and flowers, but in the end he decided to go, late but he arrived.

It took him a long time to find the salesman again and he was practically investing all his money in it, this day was not going to be different, ¿what made him change his mind? The photo of you as a baby that he had saved on his phone, the one-year-old you would cry inconsolably if he knew he was going to be without him on this special day.

When the ceremony ended you ran towards him, who welcomed you with open arms.

—Congratulations my life, I'm proud of you —He said, giving you a fatherly kiss on the forehead.

—Thanks for coming —Your smile was enough to confirm that he had made the right decision.

He gave you your flowers and the gift, when you opened it you found a beautiful sewing machine, it was the most appropriate gift considering that you had just graduated as a fashion designer.

—¡Thank you dad! —You said happily, hugging him tightly again.

You were excited and he was also happy to share this moment with you, he had isolated himself from everything for the last three years but you managed to get him out of his comfort zone to also make him smile.

Sometimes he isolated you to protect you, he didn't want anyone involved in those games to know that he had a daughter, a great weakness if they asked him and if something happened to you he was sure that he would never forgive himself and he would be capable of doing the unimaginable for defend you.

He called you "my life" and it was because that's what you were to him, his entire life, his oldest daughter was all he had left.

● Inside the games.

The last thing he wanted to happen was exactly what happened.

The night they took him back to those games you were also dragged with him, not by your own will because you didn't know anything about this but by the simple fact of being the closest to him you found yourself involved in this conflict.

—¿Why didn't you ever tell me about this? —You asked him cautiously as ate the food those pink guards had given them in silver cans.

—I didn't want you to get involved in this —He admitted with an expression of failure and anguish —But now you're in danger.

—We'll be fine —You smiled at him with motivation —They're just... they're child's games ¿right? We will get out of here alive.

—She's right, we just have to be prepared —Young-il said agreeing with you.

You stayed quiet and sat next to your father while you finished eating until a dispute between players caught your attention, one with purple hair and his friend forcefully pushed another to the ground.

A grimace of pain formed on your lips as the poor guy was kicked in the abdomen, knocking the wind out of him.

—¿Aren't they going to help you? They are hurting him —You complained, turning to look at the group of allies that your father had formed, but when you saw that no one was going to do anything, you stood up.

But as soon as you took a step, Young-il put a hand on your shoulder as a sign that he would take care of the situation.

After he hit the two bullies you went to player 333 and helped him stand up.

—¿Are you okay? Come with me —You said leading him to your group.

He gave you his name as a thank you, Lee Myung-gi, while you were talking to him you noticed that he was attractive and he was only a couple of years older than you

Well, eight years to you wasn't much of a difference but your father wasn't too happy about it.

During the next game in which they had to team up with five players, Gi-hun tried to keep you close.

—Well, the five of us are here, we are complete.

—Myung-gi doesn't have a team yet —You said, approaching 333 who was still standing next to you but looking in all directions in search of some team —I'll go and form another one with him.

Those words didn't seem pleasant to Gi-hun either, but before he could refuse, Young-il interrupted to help you a little.

—That's good, this way it will be easier for you to find team.

You thanked him with your look and before your father could say anything you took 333 by the hand and the two of snuck through the players in search of a team.

Even so, you could feel your father's gaze on your back and not to mention Myung-gi, he did feel somewhat intimidated but he also couldn't deny a certain attraction he had towards you since he saw you.

It was incredible and made you laugh how despite the circumstances he was still protective of you, not only protecting you from physical harm, but also emotional harm and keeping an eye out in case someone wanted to break your heart.

With the salesman I didn't put it into the games because I think it's obvious that that man would never allow something like that when it comes to his daughter.

Thanks for reading and the next thing I'll post will be about Thanos, a pending request :D

[vmlnrzmp4]

"𝘕𝘖 𝘉𝘖𝘠𝘚!"

—presenting overprotective blue lock dads.

itoshi sae

you and sae were at the park—watching little natsuki playing with bubbles all by herself. giggling and occasionally calling out saying 'ma! papa! look at this giant bubble!'

"she's energetic today," you say as you look at sae who didn't take his protective eyes away from natsuki one bit.

just then—a boy around her age walks up to her, "cool!" he exclaimes as he watches the bubbles going into the sky and popping, "i'm kai," the boy extends his hand which she gladly accepts.

"'m natsuki!"

you smile as you see the two little kids playing with soapy bubbles, "she made a new friend," you say, but the smile on your face faded away as you look at your husband, "we're not doing this, itoshi sae."

"ma! papa! look!" she holds up a bubble with both of her soapy hands which kai pops as the two of them laugh on it, "you try it too, kai-kun!"

kai...kun?

"that's enough natsuki," sae says getting up, "we're going home."

"but papa—!"

from afar, kai's parents call him too, "bye natsu-chan! see you tomorrow!"

natsu...chan? that made a vein pop on sae's forehead as he picks his daughter up, you follow beside.

"papa's mad," she pouts, "did i do something wrong, papa?"

"you're papa's extra sometimes," you chuckle, "he's not mad. are you papa sae?"

he clicks his tongue, "i'm not mad, princess. im only concerned like a good parent should be," he says, "stay away from boys, you hear me? especially the ones who call you natsu-chan. they'll only get attached."

"attached?" little natsuki asks curiously.

"you're papa's the most dramatic man i know," you say in disbelief, "it's alright. you can go play with kai-kun tomorrow hm?"

"over my dead body."

itoshi rin

"what."

papa rin asked too sternly tho it didn't scare little sakura as she happily tells how a boy kissed her cheek and called her a princess at daycare.

"it felt funny so i told him to kissy me again!"

while you watched them from the kitchen, you sigh, knowing what's coming up, "don't start rin," you say, making him run his hand over his face.

"what's his name, sakura?" rin asks and she cheerfully answers.

"hiro-kun!"

his eye twitches as he feels the annoyance growing and his questions don't stop there. he keeps on asking and asking and asking her questions till you finally stop him, coming out of the kitchen, "maybe you should not allow him to kissy you," you say. you can't help but be as protective.

"no need for kissys from others, ma and papa already spoil you a lot with them," rin declares.

"b-but, he made me feel like a princess!"

"sakura," rin sighs, "you're already a princess to me."

"i am?"

"yes. to me and ma. both," rin assures, "so stay away from boys. ok? stay away from boys who try to kissy you. who try to hold your hand, who try to give you chocolates, who try to give you flowers—"

"rin."

he ignores you, "and especially stay away from the ones who call you princess and—"

"itoshi rin."

he halts and she pouts, "but i like hiro-kun...he promised he'll marry me..."

"listen sakura," rin cups her chubby cheek, "you're not allowed to marry."

"...not ever?"

"not ever."

tears swell her eyes as she yells, "then i'm running away with hiro-kun!" she rushes back to her room to start packing her stuff, already preparing her departure.

you had to physically grab rin from proceeding with whatever he had in his mind, running your hand over his chest soothing him. rin lets out the most gut wrenching sigh, "im picking her from daycare tomorrow."

isagi yoichi

papa yoichi never thought that a little habit of yuki bringings smooth stones home was something else. that's when one day where she was simply drawing something and showed her papa her masterpiece.

"papa! look!"

"let me see what my princess has made—" he halted. a drawing—of stones. yuki. and her holding someone's hand.

"princess," he calls, "who's this?"

"thas me!" she says happily.

"and who's this beside you?"

"that's kazu-kun!" she smiled proudly, "he said he finds the prettiest smooth stones for me!"

kazu-kun. pretty smooth stones. for my princess???

"cute isn't it?" you say, walking out of the kitchen as you inspect the drawing.

betrayal. pure betrayal. top 10 anime betrayals—

"y/n-chan," yoichi calls firmly, "you knew about this?"

you sighed. knowing what's coming up, "yo-chan they're 4—"

"exactly! yuki's 4! she's not supposed to have a—" his hands moves dramatically as he explains, "kazu-kun!"

"yo-chan—"

"it's stones first, then it's going to be love letters, then—"

"isagi yoichi."

he sighs, placing his hands on his knees as he gets up, "yuki."

"hai papa?"

"let's go out. i'll teach you how to skip stones on water."

michael kaiser

"promise me anne," papa michael crouches down to her level, "promise me you'll never get a boyfriend."

little anne blinks in confusion, "why, papa?"

"because," he starts sternly, "boys are trouble. they don't know how to treat a princess like you. understood?"

"but i wan' one..." she pouts, "i wan' alex."

the world froze.

"anne," he says her name sternly, "who is alex?"

"i'll show you!" within a second she hops and rushes in to get her class photograph. her papa adjusts the glasses resting on his forehead, pushing them down to eye level as he inspects before looking at you.

you simply shrug, "they have a homework date this saturday."

"nonsense," he takes his glasses off in disbelief—he's seen too much, "boys don't do homework!"

"mihya, calm down—"

"they only run around with their snotty noses!"

"michael kaiser," you interrupt sharply as anne hugs your waist, confused at her papa's reaction. or rather overreaction.

"why is papa mad, ma?".

you caress her hair, "papa isn't mad at you, he's being overprotective," you glare at him, "and he's gonna stop that."

he scoffs, "stop what?"

"stop scaring her with your over dramaticness," you say firmly.

"anne listen to me," he begins. again, "all you need to focus on is homework, ma, papa, and soccer. who needs alex anyways?"

she gasps, "i need alex!" she says happily, making her papa mumble mein gott to which you couldn't help but laugh as you quickly looked away.

"you're laughing?" he glares at you, "this is funny to you?"

"very."

"what's next? you're going to be laughing beside me while i cough blood and cry when my princess is there in her wedding dress and that dumb kid alex is just waiting for the right moment to kiss—"

"papa..." anne looks up at her papa with teary eyes and she runs to him and hugs his waist, "don't cough blood. don't cry."

"princess..." he sighs, picking anne up in his arms, placing so many kissys on her chubby cheeks, "nothing bad will happen to papa."

"i love you papa."

he exhales softly, "that's all i need to hear," he says before attacking her with more kissys making her giggle as he spins her around, "i love you too princess."

"...and the homework date?" you interrupted.

"cancel it," he says, stopping mid-spin, placing her down, "my princess has her papa to study with."

she laughs giddily, "but i still like alex."

your husband looks at you. and you could read his expressions so well because ofcourse you do! "no michael, you're not calling his parents."

[mikami1992]

I have an idea of ​​how and why this happened and how there can be reconciliation between Crocodile and Dragon…

King Cobra is sick… He is a widower and sick, he knows that it will be a miracle to see his daughter reach 20 (he only remembers her last appearances after the time skip)… So he has the right idea, he has to prepare Vivi to rule Alabasta in a world where most princesses have to marry to be recognized as Queens… but not as rulers, that's her husband…

So when he sees Lady Crocodile arrive in the country and sees her earn respect as the pirate captain that she is, he says to himself; "yes, this is how I want my daughter to earn respect"; because he knows that as soon as he dies, some idiot from another kingdom (possibly on the initiative of the world government) will try to marry into the royal family, as if he were doing his daughter a favor.

As for Lady Crocodile, well I don't know if you noticed that Boa Hankoc is the only female Shichibukai and it's probably something recent… so at the time she was looking for the position, the directors didn't want a female pirate in the position, according to why they have the reputation of seducing Marines and leading them down the path of evil (in fact Boa was able to be accepted because of her hatred of men, so she wouldn't "lower" herself to do it), so we have Crocodile looking for a way to have "tranquility" when she arrives in Arabasta….

then upon learning of the situation, King Cobra proposes a marriage only in name to a Lady Crocodile (since both still miss their previous partners), where the position of Queen of Arabasta would give Crocodile the tranquility she was looking for and the latter would help raise the princess as a strong woman who shows who's in charge….

extra points if Crocodile and Dragon have a shared custody agreement (Garp represents his son on official papers), so the ASL trio grows up with a little sister….

What do you think?

@diminuel y @achromaticbibliophile

The Desert Queen and the Princess of Alabasta

There are different ways to take over a country ;3

[hederasgarden]

Eternal Devotion (1/3)

Summary: Months after your husband's untimely death, his presence lingers, haunting you in ways you never expected. Pairing: Vampire!Friedrich Harding x Wife!Reader  Word Count: 3.9K Rating: Mature, 18+ only. Heavy angst and grief, period typical sexism, creepy things, mildly dubious consent, sexual content, vampirism and all the warnings that come with that (I’m diverging from canon a bit in regards to feeding). This is my attempt at Gothic Romance. A/N:  The reader has always been Friedrich wife, Anna does not exist in this AU. Big thanks to @ryebecca, @otaku-girl-ao3, @whatblogisthis216 , @eremeldanin and @caught-reading for their help with this fic.  Please comment or reblog if you enjoyed this and want to see more. Or scream at me in my inbox. That always makes my day.

Aaron Taylor Johnson Character Masterlist ♡ Masterlist

No grave can hold my body down, I'll crawl home to her. -Hozier

The room is dim with the curtains drawn tight, allowing only a sliver of daylight to creep through the gap. In the distance, the soft hum of morning activity rises from the rest of the house, the gentle chatter of your two daughters layered over the quiet rustling of the servants preparing for the day ahead. You should rise and follow the rhythm of the world outside this room, but you cannot. 

Friedrich has been gone nearly six months. It feels like a lifetime. The days stretch endlessly, and each one feels like an affront, a reminder that the world refuses to stop turning. How are you supposed to go on living? You know if you had died, Friedrich would have climbed into the casket beside you and his grief would have blotted out the sun.

But there was no casket for him. No body left to bury. He was swallowed by the sea, lost while fulfilling a promise you made, helping Ellen return to Thomas.

Your daughters do not yet grasp the finality of it. No matter how many times you tell them, they speak of their father like he is simply away at work, perhaps, or out on some important errand. And each morning they act as if he’s come to tuck them into bed, kiss their cheeks, and say their prayers like he did before. They look up at you with soft eyes, the very same as his and you must relive the pain of it again and again when you remind them their father is gone.

Sometimes, you wish you could believe your own dreams, the ones where Friedrich slips back into bed beside you. Yet even in those fleeting moments of illusion, something is wrong. The warmth you long for is absent. His touch is colder, harder, his presence not the way it used to be. When his lips meet your skin, it stings, sharp and unfamiliar, and the truth rises within you, pushing against the comfort of the dream. 

It’s not him. And it never will be. Now and forevermore, each morning you will wake to find the sheets beside you cold. Empty.

Everyone told you the grief would abate with time but these past few weeks have drained you more thoroughly than any that came before. Each morning, it feels as though your very blood has turned to sand, your bones to lead. Even the simple act of turning onto your back, to stare up at the wooden beams of the ceiling, takes more effort than you can summon. 

You remain in bed until the door creaks open, and the light sound of footsteps follows. Kerstin’s voice is no more than a whisper as she brushes your shoulder.

“Frau Harding. Your parents have arrived for breakfast. Your father wishes for you to join them.”

The sight of your maid’s pale, worried face is enough to rouse you. You let her dress and prepare you for the day. Although she’s done this a thousand times, there’s something about the way her hands hover over the buttons of your gown, the hesitation before each movement, that makes you feel like a stranger in your own skin. You see how she and the other servants watch you now. Even when they pretend to be absorbed in their tasks, their glances are sharp, laden with worry. They fear you’ll descend into the same madness as Ellen, but it is only your grief, so vast and deep, that’s reshaping you in ways you can’t even recognize. 

When you enter the dining room, your daughters rush to you. You hold them close, inhaling the familiar scent of their hair. Your mother greets you next, reaching out to cup your face in her hands, her fingers trembling slightly as they linger there. There is a deep sadness in her eyes and she glances over at your father with a look halfway between pleading and resignation.

“Come, you must eat,” she encourages, guiding you to sit beside her.

Your father, sitting at the head of the table, offers no such tenderness. His presence is a commanding weight in the room and the deep set of his brow lets you know this is not merely a social visit. You glance at your mother who stares at the hands in her lap and your fingers curl around the richly upholstered arm of the dining room chair. Whatever he has come to say will not be good, you realize. 

“The children are finished with their breakfast,” he announces sharply, his voice cutting through the air like a command. With a quick flick of his fingers, he gestures to the governess. “Take them to the parlor. Their mother and I have matters to discuss.”

Once they are gone, your father doesn’t wait long to speak again. “It has been six months,” he begins, his gaze unwavering. “Long enough. You must remarry, and soon.” 

You blink, momentarily stunned. Six months? Six months since Friedrich was swallowed by the sea, leaving nothing but an empty, aching space behind. Six months in which you have not even been able to make sense of the grief that clings to you like a second skin. How could he even think of you remarrying so soon?

“But… Father, I…” you begin, the words faltering in your throat.

He doesn’t let you finish, his voice growing sterner. “You must think of the future, not just of your own sorrow. The children need stability, and you need a husband. You cannot manage alone, not with the wealth you inherited from your late husband.”

You shake your head, even as you know there is a kernel of truth to his words. The vast estate, the shipyard, and the assets Friedrich once managed all fall on you now. It is a burden you are not prepared to shoulder and one you have steadily ignored these past months. But even beyond all that, the thought of remarrying, of taking another man into your life is something you can’t even entertain.

"I cannot… not yet," you whisper, barely above a breath. And in the pit of your chest, a deeper thought rises unbidden: Not ever.

“I understand your reluctance,” he says firmly. “But even now, men circle you like vultures. They want your husband’s wealth and his business. We must act swiftly and secure the right match — for you, for the children, for our family’s future.”

You swallow hard, the lump in your throat refusing to pass. Your hands move to straighten the cutlery in front of you, anything to occupy them, anything to hold off the flood of emotion threatening to spill over.

And then, almost without thinking, you speak. “You never say his name.”

Your father’s brow furrows. “What?”

“Friedrich,” you whisper. “It is always my husband or your son-in-law. You do not… you do not say his name.”

There is a long pause before your father clears his throat, dismissing the uncomfortable silence. “We cannot afford to linger on sentiment,” he says. “Sentiment will not feed the children or keep the business afloat. We need to think practically.”

You stare at him, hearing nothing more than the absence of your husband's name in his voice, the not-so-subtle command that you too must move on, move past this grief, and return to the world of the living. 

“You cannot make me do this.”

"Perhaps not," your father concedes, exhaling sharply. "But your husband has many cousins who would think nothing of reclaiming control over the business." He pauses, taking a deliberate sip of his water, his eyes never leaving yours. "Men who would see no value in a widow and her daughters when they have families of their own.”

His words have their desired effect, leaving you feeling small and powerless. Your shoulders slump, the strength in you draining away as your head hangs, heavy with the crushing knowledge of what awaits.

“Now, your mother has already arranged for you and the girls to have new clothes made for your return to society," he continues, his tone cool and businesslike. "We will host a small, intimate gathering. I will invite a few prospective suitors—men I consider promising options. You may, of course, choose which one you wish to pursue."

“How kind you are to offer me a say,” you murmur, the words bitter in your mouth.  

A muscle in his jaw twitches. “I know grief has stolen your good sense but you will watch your tongue when you speak to me,” your father warns. 

A surge of emotion rises within you, sharp and unwelcome, forcing its way up your throat. The words spill out before you can stop them, raw and unrestrained. “You would not speak to me this way if Friedrich were here.”

Your father shakes his head, rising from his seat to tower over you. “He is not here, my girl. He will never be here again. You are alone in a world that is unkind to women such as yourself.”

The pity in his eyes is more than you can bear. The dam breaks, and the first wave of tears crashes down, unbidden and unstoppable. A  flood that drags you under. You sink back into the chair, helpless as wracking sobs tear through you, a deep, raw ache flooding every part of your being.

Distantly, you hear your mother’s voice chastising your father. Her arms slip around you, pulling you close. She whispers gentle reassurances, her shushing echoing the soothing words you’ve said a hundred times to your own girls, but it feels empty now, a hollow repetition that cannot shield you from the brutal reality.

Friedrich is gone. And with him, any hope you once held of finding happiness.

–

When you step into your father’s parlor, the weight of every gaze in the room settles on you like a tangible thing. The faces that turn toward you are mostly unfamiliar, offering you that sad, understanding smile you’ve grown so weary of. It is a smile that means nothing at all in light of their presence here. Each one of them is complicit in your father’s schemes.

“You look lovely,” your father says. He presses his lips to your cheek in an exaggerated gesture of affection, more a farce than any real expression of love. “The blue truly suits you,” he adds, his eyes dropping to take in your fine silk dress. 

It’s the latest fashion from Paris, or so you’re told. Once, a dress like this would have delighted you—Friedrich always took such joy in bringing you the finest, most exquisite silks and fabrics from his travels. But now, the dress feels all wrong, too tight and too revealing, exposing more of your shoulder and décolletage than you’re comfortable with. 

You smile at your father. Even though it barely touches your lips it doesn’t seem to bother him. He simply sweeps you further into the room, his hand on your arm guiding you forward as he begins the task of making introductions. It’s a performance, and you are trapped at the center of it. But you do as your father and society demand, falling into the practiced motions of politeness. 

You engage in small talk, offering the kind of perfunctory responses that are expected of you, feigning interest in whatever these men have to say. Some ask after your children, while others offer their condolences for your loss. But behind their kindness lies a predatory sort of interest. It is all you can do to nod, offering your own strained smile as you stand there wondering how much longer you can keep up this charade.

When your father finally leaves you for a moment you close your eyes, exhaling. 

“Oh, dearest girl.” 

The unexpected voice makes you flinch. You turn, meeting a familiar pair of brown eyes of Herr Gothrim. Of all your father’s friends, he is the one you think might understand your plight the best. He lost his wife to the plague that swept the city nearly a year ago.

“It is shameful what your father is doing. Forcing you from your mourning period so soon.” He shakes his head. “Though, I confess, had I daughter like you I might be convinced to do the same.” He steps closer, his voice quieting. “You are the talk of the city and beyond.”

“They desire Friedrich’s wealth,” you reply. “Nothing more.”

Herr Gothrim stares at you for a moment before he speaks again, his words laden with something that makes your skin crawl.

“Do not sell yourself short. You are young. Beautiful. You might still bear your future husband a son or two.”

Friedrich had wanted a son. You knew that long before you ever married him. He had spoken of it often, longing to see his name carried on but he never once made you feel like an instrument to secure his legacy. More than that he loved your daughter fiercely, completely. And though it might have been a sin, he loved you even more.  

“I fear you will not have the luxury of time, my dear,” Herr Gothrim warns. “Your father will push forward with his plans, and if you do not make a choice, one will be made for you. Perhaps a familiar one would be best.”

His eyes briefly flick over his shoulder, and you follow his gaze. It rests on his son, Pieter. The sight of him makes a sharp, uncomfortable feeling bubbling up from within. Once, he had petitioned your father for your hand and before Friedrich had made his offer, Pieter had been the one your father had entertained as a potential suitor. 

To your dismay, Pieter seems to take your attention as an invitation, crossing the room to join the two of you. He greets you with an overly familiar kiss to your cheek that lingers, brushing against the corner of your lips. When he pulls away his hand remains on your elbow, tethering you to him. 

“Frau Harding, you look well,” he says brightly. “Or should it be Fräulein now?”

His boldness stuns you but before you can gather your thoughts, he continues, oblivious to the discomfort in your silence. “I must confess, I was both surprised and pleased to receive your father’s invitation. And to see you again after so long. I am eager for a second chance to win your hand.”

It is only the thought of your daughters and the need to ensure their future is safe that keeps grief from sharpening your tongue. You force your eyes downward, focusing on a speck of dust on his lapels to avoid looking at his face. “My father was pleased you accepted his invitation. He has always been fond of you,” you reply hollowly.

Pieter smiles, seemingly unaware of how your voice thins and your words fall flat and meaningless. 

“You look cold,” he observes. “Come, you should warm yourself by the fire as we reacquaint ourselves. My import business has grown greatly since we last spoke.”

His touch feels possessive, demanding even yet you are helpless to do anything more than follow him. You catch your father’s eyes when you pass him. He looks pleased and it turns your stomach. 

Pieter keeps you by his side for the rest of the evening, his words a constant hum around you. Whether he’s wholly unaware of your discomfort or willfully blind to it, you can’t decide. His conversation is a relentless stream of boasts about his business, his wealth, and his success, as though he expects you to be impressed, to be eager for his attention. Each time you try to excuse yourself, your attempts are dismissed with a smile and an insistent push to stay.

It isn’t until your mother comes to collect you at the end of the night that you are finally freed from his hold. You follow her away from the gathering and into the waiting carriage, Pieter’s gaze lingering on you. 

You’re so exhausted on the ride home that the muffled sound of the horses’ hooves on the cobblestone streets and the rocking of the carriage nearly lulls you into sleep. You find your daughters are already in bed when you arrive at the house. Though you loathe to disturb their peaceful slumber, you find yourself drawn to them, compelled to check on them before you can rest. You make your way down the dark hallway, the soft creak of the floorboards beneath your feet the only sound betraying your presence.

When you crack open the door to their room, a cool rush of air greets you, sending a shiver through you. You find their window unlatched, the curtains fluttering in the autumn breeze that has slipped in. Startled, you step further into the room, a wave of panic rising in your chest. You move quickly to reach the window and quietly shut it again. 

Once it is secured, you turn to your girls. The sight of them, peaceful and safe in their beds, eases some of the tension in your chest. Your youngest clutches a slip of fabric in her hands, her tiny face relaxed in sleep. There is something about the cloth she holds that gives you pause. You kneel beside her, gently prying it from her grasp. At the sight of the familiar handkerchief and your own needlework, worn and fraying with time, your breath stutters in your throat. 

It was one of the first gifts you ever gave Friedrich, back when he was still courting you. You had made him dozens more over the years, but still, he carried it with him, even as it began to unravel at the edges. You always assumed it was lost with him and to find it here, tucked in your daughter’s hands, feels like both a balm and a wound.

Fingers trembling, you press the fabric to your face and close your eyes. For a brief moment, you swear you can still smell Friedrich’s cologne, faint but unmistakable. You linger in that moment until your daughter shifts in her sleep and you're brought back to reality. Carefully, you tuck the handkerchief into her tiny hands and kiss her forehead before retreating from the room.

–

Your dreams are restless, an amalgam of fractured images and disjointed sensations. Pieter’s dark, unblinking eyes merge with the black fabric of your mourning gown, and then, without warning, the scene shifts, plunging you into the vast, endless depths of the sea that claimed Friedrich. 

The cold water envelops you, and you gasp for air, but the water rushes in, drowning your cries. In your panic, you thrash wildly, desperate for escape. Just as you feel yourself slipping into the abyss, strong hands seize you, pulling you upward. Your eyes snap open, your breath coming in sharp, desperate gasps. The water recedes, and in its place, Friedrich’s face fills your vision.

“I am here, I am here, my love,” he murmurs softly, pressing his forehead to yours. His hand rests lightly on your chest, guiding your breath to match his steady rhythm, coaxing the frantic pace of your heart to slow.  

You stare at him as the world crystallizes around you. Then, you surge forward, your lips crashing into his with a desperation that consumes you. Your hands find their way to his shoulders, clutching him tightly like he might vanish if you let go. The kiss is a lifeline and you cling to it with a need so raw it aches.

“Friedrich,” you gasp, reveling in the familiar tickle of his mustache and his strong hands on your body.  

For a fleeting moment, you wonder if this is real, if he’s truly here, or if your grief has finally unraveled, conjuring him from the depths of the ocean to haunt you. But then, as his lips press urgently against yours and the solid weight of him fills your arms, you decide you don’t care. It doesn’t matter if he is a ghost, risen from the sea’s cold embrace. Nor does it matter that death has leached the color from his cheeks and the warmth from his hands. All that matters is that he’s here.

“My love,” you cry. 

“I am here,” he promises, trailing his lips down the side of your throat until his mouth seals over the juncture where your neck meets your shoulder. 

He lingers there, the sting of his kiss euphoric. You bury your fingers in his thick curls, tugging gently and he all but growls against your skin. With his mouth still on you, his fingers tug at your nightgown, baring your body to his eager hands. They slip between your parted thighs, finding your wet heat, and stealing it away as they work you to the peak of pleasure. Friedrich groans and the pain in your neck flares, sharp and sudden.

When he pulls away, a wave of exhaustion crashes over you, leaving you breathless and spent. You stare up at him as your vision shifts, the world taking on a hazy hue. In the dim light, his blue eyes are dark, almost silvery, and something deep within you recoils, an instinctive fear that you can’t quite name. But then, he blinks, and just as quickly the shadow fades. The warmth of his gaze returns, and those same familiar blue eyes, the ones you’ve loved for so long, look down at you with tenderness.

Your fingers hover over his face, longing to touch him again. But a painful realization stops you. 

"You are not real.” The words leave you in a rush. 

“Does it matter if I am?" he asks. "Does this not bring you peace, my love?"

You shake your head, the pain of his absence still raw in your chest. You can’t resist the pull of him, the need to feel close again, even if only in this fleeting moment. Without thinking, you draw him down to kiss you, and the taste of him is sharp, unexpectedly coppery.

"It is a horrible thought," you murmur, breaking the kiss, "but I wish I would not wake when morning comes. I want to stay here with you. In this dream."

A deep frown forms between his brows, and his hand finds your cheek, his touch colder than it should be. His mouth parts slightly, and his teeth, white and sharp, glimmer faintly against his pale lips. 

“You do not wish to find a new husband? To live?” he questions. 

"I wish only for you," you say, voice trembling but sure. "And for our girls."

“My dearest wife,” he whispers, kissing you sweetly. “I will never leave you. I cannot.”

A soft moan slips from you, unbidden, the sound encouraging him to kiss you deeper. His lips move with a possessive tenderness that fills the hollow spaces inside you. “Nor would I ever let you go," he promises. “We are bound even in death.”

[kashverse]

can you make a fic about babykuna being a mommys girl, like shes all soft and sweet and like a baby with mommy, and a little menace with her papa

the duality of miss babykuna must be studied. because with you, aka kunamama, aka the love of her little life, she is an angel. an absolute sweetheart.

she proudly parades around in the outfits you put together for her, giggling as she twirls in the mirror, her little voice echoing, "mama, we match!"

she shows you her good marks in school before showing them to anyone else, clutching the paper in her tiny hands as she beams up at you. "look, mama! i did so good! are you proud?"

she wisely sits next to you whenever you're getting ready—whether for a night out or just to bed—watching you with wide, adoring eyes. "mama, when i get big, i wanna be just like you."

your little angel.

but with dadkuna? aka kunapapa? aka ryomen sukuna?

…it’s like something demonic is awakened. like a switch is flipped.

"papa, you won’t believe what happened today."

sukuna barely glances up from his glass of whiskey, lounging on the couch with his arm lazily draped over the backrest. "yeah?"

"so there’s this girl in my coloring class?"

"mmhm?"

"she thinks she’s soooo cool," babykuna says, climbing up onto the couch beside him, crossing her little arms like a mob boss. “so i had to beat her.” sukuna quirks a brow. "oh?"

"yes." she grins—deviously. "she said her labubu was the best dressed in class. but i showed her mine and—" she claps her tiny hands together, cackling, "—she cried papa. she cried.”

sukuna takes a slow sip of his drink. "you made the mean girl cry by flexing your labubu?"

"yes." she tilts her chin up, victorious. sukuna smirks. "that’s my girl."

"i know," she replies, flicking her hair over her shoulder in the exact way she’s seen her papa do a hundred times. then she leans in, whispering, "also? guess who didn’t color inside the lines today?*"

"who?"

"the smartest boy in class."

"no way."

"yes way."

"and you?"

she smirks, eyes glinting like her father’s. "perfection, papa."

"that’s my fucking girl," sukuna grins, holding his palm up. babykuna slaps her tiny hand against his. it’s devil dad and devil daughter, thick as thieves. meanwhile, you stand in the doorway, arms crossed, watching the unholy alliance unfold.

"…is this what happens when i’m not around?" you deadpan.

"mama!" babykuna gasps, suddenly all sweetness again, running over to you and grabbing your hand. “papa said a bad word!” sukuna glares at her.

"you just called that kid a loser."

"*but you said the bad word, papa!"

sukuna groans, rubbing his temples. "you little traitor."

[cllightning81]

Old Married Couple [CL16]

Summary : Working in your old job for some extra cash brings up a familiar face that you didn't expect to see.

Pairing/s: Charles Leclerc x Schumacher!Reader

Word Count : 5.7k (this was going to be short but I got carried away)

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When you were asked to cover a shift at the little cafe where you used to work, who would you say no to? The owner and her daughter had become a third family to you, followed behind your actual family and childhood best friend family. 

Turning around as the door opened, you didn’t expect to be confronted with said childhood best friend. You two still spoke all the time; it was like nothing had ever changed except it had. A lot had changed. He was chasing his dreams worldwide; your older brother had started pursuing his dreams, and your dad's. He’d gotten poorly injured. 

“Y/N?” He asked, drawing you from your thoughts as you rounded the corner, almost running into his arms with a smile on your face

“You weren’t meant to be in Monaco” He frowned, and you shrugged a little 

“It got a little suffocating back home, so I decided to come back here”, you replied, wrapping your arms around him 

“And got a job here again, ice cream girl?” He teased as you pushed him away 

“They asked if I wanted extra cash as some people are ill. There’s a sickness bug going around. I would have popped in to say hello when I returned, but I thought you were in Italy!” You exclaimed, walking back behind the counter 

“I was in Italy. I just got back and decided I wanted a coffee, so here I am” He shrugged, and you turned around, taking a coffee port from the machine and knocking out the previously used grounds from the last coffee you’d made. The young girl you were working with was on her break and poked her head out to ensure it wasn’t too busy. Charles, being the only customer in the shop, you smiled at her, filling the port with ground coffee beans. 

“How’s Mick and your family?” Charles asked, and you shrugged 

“Mick’s living his dream. Gina’s having a baby girl. Dad’s dad and mum. She’s doing okay,” You replied, turning around to fill the milk jug with some milk 

“How’s your family?” You asked, motioning for him to take a seat

 “The same as the last time you asked. Which was two days ago?” He chuckled, and you shrugged, steaming the milk to make his latte. 

“Something major could have happened”, you replied with a shrug of your shoulders before pouring his now-steamed milk into the cup and taking it over to him.

“Do you want any ice cream? Cake?” You asked, and he shook his head 

“Diet says no”, he replied with a slight pout, and you laughed

“So, what are you doing with work now?” He asked, and you sighed 

“I don’t know, Cha. I’ve got this brilliant engineering degree, yet no one wants a Schumacher to work for them,” you sighed. It had always been your dream to work in the same racing team as Mick. Yet every time he got hired. You didn’t. It hurt; of course, it did, but you wouldn’t tell Mick that. 

“Maybe you’re just looking in the wrong places”, Charles offered, and you shrugged. 

“I’ve tried non-racing teams as well” You sighed, looking around before taking the seat opposite him. 

“Mon ami. Have you tried Ferrari?” He asked. You looked at him, shaking your head. You didn’t want to be compared. 

“With Carlos leaving, some team members are leaving to join him. Lewis isn’t bringing many mechanics or engineers. Just a couple” He shrugged as the young girl walked out. 

“Y/N? I’m done with my break. You can take yours.” She smiled while walking behind the counter as she fixed her apron. 

“Thank you, Julie.” You smiled, getting up and squeezing Charles’s hand on the table. Walking into the small back of the shop, you removed your apron and grabbed your phone before walking to the front of the shop.

“Want to take a walk with me?” You asked Charles, who was happy enough to get up to pay for his coffee 

“Yeah. You know I like walks” You smiled. 

“Julie, don't charge him. I’m just going to get my lunch” You smiled as she nodded. 

“Enjoy”, you hummed, walking out of the shop next to Charles 

“How long until your shift ends?” He asked, and you looked at the clock 

“I’m having lunch late, so it's only an hour. They managed to find someone to come in early but couldn’t get someone in the morning,” You responded as you fell into pace next to him, walking to the bakery just along the street 

“I know maman would love to see you if you wanted to catch up in person together” " he offered, and you smiled, turning your head to look at that 

“I’d love that” You smiled as you entered the bakery. The scent of fresh bread fills the air, and the freshly baked cakes and pastries fill the glass cabinets in front of you, their glass shining, obviously just newly cleaned. 

You placed your order with the lovely woman behind the counter as you pulled some cash out of your pocket; however, Charles’ F1 reflexes bet you to pay 

“Cha. I can pay for my lunch” You turned to him, and he shrugged 

“You wouldn’t let me pay for my coffee” He replied

“I don’t like coffee, so you got my free on-shift coffee”, you replied with a hum, thanking the woman for your order before walking out of the shop

“Well, maybe I’m just trying to convince you to reconsider joining Ferrari. Imagine it. Me, you, travelling the world together just like you had planned. You, Max, travelling the world just like both your fathers had planned” You couldn’t help but laugh a little 

“Yeah, Red Bull didn’t want a Schumacher. Horner’s word, not mine” You huffed, and he frowned, stopping in his tracks 

“Oh, wait until I tell Max”, he muttered, and you shook your head

“Max knows. He wasn’t happy, but he got me the interview,” You replied 

“You still speak to Max?” He asked. Something flashed across his face that you couldn’t quite understand or see for long enough 

“Yeah, occasionally. He texted to check in on me and my dad, and when I mentioned I was still looking for a job, he offered to get me an interview,” you replied. Ever since your previous company went bankrupt, you have found it impossible to find a permanent job. 

“He never mentioned it”, Charles frowned, holding open the cafe door for you. Smiling at Julie, you walk over to the table and sit beside Charles again. 

“So, tell me about your life,” You replied, wanting to take the topic off yourself. 

“The season went pretty well. I’m excited about a change of scenery with teammates; however, I will miss having Carlos as my teammate. Something just tells me I won’t have that kind of relationship with Hamilton,” He replied, and you nodded along, eating your food.

“Mercedes kind of didn’t make him do media for social media, so I have a feeling I’ll be doing those alone. Which isn’t the worst, but I enjoyed being competitive with Carlos,” He added as you tilted your head a little 

“Yeah, those C-squared videos were quite good” " you replied with a smile, and he nodded.

“Who would you put in his seat if you had the choice?” You asked him, and he tilted his head a little, thinking about it as he sipped the coffee that Julie had brought 

“Arthur, probably. All drivers work hard to get to Formula One, but I’ve watched Arthur struggle to live in my shadows his whole life. Hell, even Lorenzo lives in my shadows, and he’s older. So, probably Arthur or maybe Ollie. I quite like that kid” He nodded, and you couldn’t help but laugh a little 

“You’ve adopted another driver” " you replied, and he frowned, looking up at you. 

“What? Non!” He exclaimed, and you nodded 

“I know that I avoid your invites to the paddock, but I’m not blind or deaf. The way you talk about Ollie and the way you’re always there for him. He’s your grid kid!” You exclaimed with a broad smile as Charles shook his head, attempting to deny it 

“I’ve already got Oscar!” He exclaimed, and you shrugged 

“You can have multiple kids”, you laughed, getting up to put your rubbish into the bin. Charles shook his head, saying it as you fixed something on the shelf that caught your eyes. You pulled your apron on before helping Julie with the coffee order that had just come in. 

Over the next hour, the shop was pretty quiet, which gave you time to catch up with Charles on the stuff you hadn’t said over text because it either just didn’t feel right or you didn’t want to say it on text. 

You said bye to the two staff members you’d met today before walking out with Charles. The silence was nice and comfortable as you walked through the streets of Monte Carlo to his maman’s hair salon. 

Pascale had always welcomed you into the Leclerc family, even going as far as joking that you’d probably marry one of her sons in the future. You couldn’t help but notice how well the Leclerc genes hit Arthur and Charles in just the right places. 

Eventually, Charles was the first one to speak up.

“If I could get you an interview at Ferrari, would you at least attend the interview?” He asked. You couldn���t help but sigh a little, quickly glancing at him. He was never going to give it up. Charles never gave up. 

“I’ll do the interview, but only because I know you won’t stop until I do it”, you replied, and Charles smiled, wrapping you in a hug. 

“Thank you!” He cheered before you continued walking with a laugh. You were soon on the same street as his maman’s hair salon, and he opened the door, allowing you to walk in first. Pascale looked up from her diary, standing up as quickly as Charles’ reflexes as she rounded the table. 

“Oh, Y/N, look at you!” Her arms wrapped around you, pulling you into her arms before pulling back her hands resting on your face 

“Après-midi Pascale” (Afternoon) You smiled, hugging her back. When you finally pulled away, Pascale moved past you to hug her son. 

“Après-midi maman” (Afternoon) Charles smiled, kissing her cheek before ushering you to sit down.

“J'ai trouvé celui-ci dans son ancien café” (I found this one in her old cafe). Charles turned to Pascale, who raised an eyebrow before starting her conversation in French with Charles. While you could understand basic French while it was slow, it wasn’t a primary language, and they were talking too fast. 

“Oh, I can’t believe you’re back here. You should have texted you could have stayed over. You’re getting too skinny,” Pascale fussed, and you smiled. You weren’t home in Germany often, so saying you didn’t enjoy her fussing would be a lie. 

“I’m okay, Pascale” You smiled, holding her hand. 

“Oh, you should join us for dinner tonight. The boys are coming over” She smiled, and you smiled up at her. 

“I wouldn’t want to intrude, Pascale. It’s your weekly dinner” You frowned 

“Nonsense. Charles talked her into it.” She walked away to speak to the client who had just walked in, and Charles laughed, sitting beside her. 

“She’s as persistent as I am” He shrugged with a smile, pulling you into a hug. You couldn’t help but rest your head on his chest just like you used to when you were a teenager. 

“Fine. I missed your maman’s cooking anyway. Takeaways aren’t hitting the spot anymore, and I’m losing money buying them,” You replied with a huff, and Charles laughed. His chest vibrated as he did. 

“You know, if you were to dive into your savings accounts, you wouldn’t be losing money”, he replied with a shrug as you pulled away offended. Your hand on your chest 

“Charles Leclerc! How dare you suggest I touch my savings? Those are for emergencies!” You exclaimed, and he laughed 

“Get an interview with Ferrari, and you would never need to touch those savings”, he replied with a smirk as you rolled your eyes. 

“I’ve already told you I’ll do the interview. What more do you want?” You asked, tilting your head as you glanced over at Pasclae, who was talking with a customer

“For you to join us at dinner. I know Arthur and Enzo would love to see you. Arthurs bringing his new girlfriend and Enzo bringing Charlotte,” He replied 

“I’ve already said I’d do that as well. However, your maman is going to have me at every dinner now,” You replied, and he chuckled, pulling you back into his arms. 

“Wouldn’t be the worst decision she’d ever made.” He smiled, and you rested your head against his chest. 

Later that night, you were walking up to the Leclerc family home. It had been a while since you were last inside; however, you’d run past it almost every day on your run because it was the neighbourhood that you knew, like the back of your hand. 

You were just about to knock on the door when the door was abruptly pulled open by none other than Arthur Leclerc, who, as usual, wasn’t watching what he was doing. Before you realised the door had opened, your hand hit his face. You both gasped at the same time. 

“Scheiße! Arthur! Entschuldigung! Warum versteckst du dich hinter der Tür?” You panicked as Arthur's hand flew to his eye where you had just accidentally punched him. (Shit! Arthur! Sorry! Why are you hiding behind the door?) Charles came running out at the sound of your panicked German and almost doubled over in laughter 

“Putain!” Arthur exclaimed

“Maman, Enzo. Arthur a encore récidivé!” (Mum, Enzo. Arthur did it again!) Charles called into the house as Pascale rushed out of the kitchen, ready to fuss over her boy and give a telling-off to whoever punched him; however, when she saw you, she turned to Arthur with a disapproving look. Lorenzo slowly followed behind, clearly unfazed. 

“Quel garçon idiot. Je vous ai dit d'arrêter d'ouvrir la porte car les invités sont sur le point de frapper. Va mettre de la glace sur tes yeux.” She complained to Arthur. As Arthur retreated back into the house like a dog with its tail between his legs.

“Garçon idiot et idiot" " she muttered to no one in particular as Charles looked at Enzo before they both started laughing again (What a silly boy. I told you to stop pulling the door open as guests are about to knock. Go put some ice on your eye. Silly silly boy)

“Désolé Pascale”, You whispered, looking at the older woman who turned to look at you with a soft look (Sorry) 

“That was Arthur’s fault. He thinks it’s funny. He’s learned his lesson this time. Now, why you were going to knock in the first place is beyond me” She shook her head disapprovingly, and you quickly came up with an excuse. 

“I was just going to use it to announce my presence. In case you were talking about me,” You joked, and Pascale laughed, ushering you into the house. Charles pulled you into his arms, kissing your cheeks before Lorenzo did the same thing. 

“It’s good to see you, Y/N” He smiled before walking back into the house to his fiance as you looked at Charles, who started laughing again. 

“Oh, your face” He laughed as you shook your head, pushing him out of the way.

“Enfant préféré” (Favourite Child), Arthur muttered as he walked past you and Charles. You both looked at each other before laughing again. Pascale had a soft spot for you, and if that weren’t shown in her reaction to that incident, you wouldn’t know what would show it. 

Arthur’s new girlfriend walked out of the living room to see what was happening and possibly what her boyfriend was complaining about. You smiled over as Charles took his time to speak up. 

“Ah, Jade. This is Y/N. She’s one of my best friends. Well, I think maman adopted her when we were about nine” He shrugged, and you waved in her direction. 

“Nice to meet you” You smiled. 

“You too. What’s ‘Thur shouting about?” She asked as Charles started laughing all over again. For something so simple, he was easily amused. 

“Oh, I went to knock on the door, and he pulled it open with his head right where I was about to knock”, Jade giggled to herself as she nodded. 

“I’ll go find him” " she giggled, walking into the depths of the house as you followed Charles into the living room. Pascale still had all her favourite photos decorating the house, with a few extra ones added. The one that took pride in the middle of the mantle piece? One of you and Charles smiling at each other on the couch as Arthur slept over both of your legs. You stopped and looked at for a moment before Charles turned to look at you. 

“He hates that picture. Maman loves it. She says it shows our siblingly bond.” He chuckled, resting his arm around your shoulder and talking you through the newer pictures that had been added. 

Within the hour of being at the Leclerc household, it was like you had never left it in the first place. Like you’d been at every family dinner since you went to University and left Monaco to join your family back in Germany. 

Despite the incident with her boyfriend, you and Jade seemed to be getting along well, even if Arthur was still annoyed at the whole incident. Mama Leclerc wasn’t about to let you take the blame for that. 

Your head rested on your hand as you spoke to Charles after almost begging Pascale to let you help her with desserts; however, she refused each time. 

“You should come out with me tomorrow night”, Charles declared as you tilted your head, waiting for more information about this night out. However, he didn’t continue, causing you to roll your eyes slightly.  

“More information, Leclerc” " you prodded, and he hummed before nodding 

“Right, yeah. Some of the grid is going out tomorrow night just to the restaurant, but we wanted to get to know the rookies because some of them have just been thrown in at the deep end, like Ollie,” He finally continued as you nodded along with his words before sitting up straight 

“Does that mean I get to meet your sons?” You asked with a large smile, and he nodded slightly 

“Yeah, I guess so” You smiled, clapping your hands a little 

“I’ll be there then” You hummed. 

Later that night, you were still in the Leclerc household, cuddled into Charles’ side as you watched a movie.

That next night, you weren’t expecting Charles to pick you up in his Ferrari; however, you walked outside the hotel room you were renting for the moment, meeting him at the front. He’d said the dress code was casual, but as always, you felt underdressed next to the Ferrari driver. 

“You ready?” The Ferrari driver smiled, and you nodded, checking everything in your bag: phone, keycard, purse, random bits and bobs. 

“I think so” You hummed and nodded while walking out to the car with you. He couldn’t have been the more perfect gentleman, and you were beginning to think he’d tricked you into a date. He opened the car door for you, helped you with your seatbelt, and even helped you out of the car when you arrived. 

Walking into the restaurant beside him, you were happy to see the other drivers sitting around the table, including some of the rookies, which there was a lot of this year compared to previous years just past. Charles pulled out a seat for you, allowing you to sit down, and you smiled politely at him. 

One seat remained, and you looked around the table, attempting to figure out who would still arrive. Charles leaned over his arm on the back of your chair to steady himself. 

“This is a whole plan. George is the last one to arrive, hence how there's a seat left next to Max,” He whispered with a smirk, and you turned to him with a slight laugh. 

“So you invited me along for World War Three?” You whispered back, turning your head to him, to which he nodded happily 

“I knew you’d want to watch the drama” He chuckled, and you laughed before Charles leaned back a little 

“Ollie?” He asked, and the boy, two seats down, turned around to look at you both. The boy you believed couldn’t be old enough to drive in Formula One also turned around. Two for one, you chuckled to yourself.

“Y/N, this is Ollie. Ollie, this is my childhood best friend, Y/N” He introduced you both, and you smiled at the young boy. 

“Nice to meet you, Ollie. Charles talks about you a lot” You smiled, pleased you finally got to meet one of his grid kids. 

“Oh my god”, Ollie whispered as the other boy sitting next to you just saw with his mouth slightly agape. You couldn’t help but have a little laugh to yourself. 

“Oh, and Y/N, this is Kimi. He’s driving for Mercedes this year” He motioned to the other boy, and you smiled. 

“Nice to meet you as well, Kimi” Kimi looked like he was gonna faint, and you could hear Charles sniggering behind you. 

“You’re like-” Kimi was cut off by a nudge in the ribs from Ollie, who had previously received one from Liam Lawson, who sat beside him. 

“Hey, Y/N” He waved down the table, and you waved back, turning to Charles. 

“You broke them”, you whispered harshly to him, to which he just shrugged in return, watching as everyone's heads slowly turned as George walked in. You bit your lip, waiting for his reaction to the only seat. To everyone’s surprise, after Max said the seat was available, he picked it up and moved it. Hiding your mouth behind your hand, you quietly laughed, noticing the Haas and Mercedes drivers beside you doing the same thing. 

Charles nudged your leg with his foot, and you turned to look at him with a smile, to which he nudged his head in the other direction of the table, which had you turning around to see what he was on about just to see the Red Bull driver attempting to start a conversation with the Mercedes driver. 

The disagreement was one-sided as Max attempted to clear the air between them. Still, you could also clearly see that George wasn’t interested in listening to what Max had to say, and on the following media day, George would be starting rumours. 

Throughout the night, you got to know the two rookies sitting beside you, and you couldn’t lie. You had taken a liking to them. You now understand why Charles was so supportive and why he was always worried about Oliver. You had a feeling that maybe if you got the job at Ferrari, it wouldn’t be so bad. 

Two months later, you’d gone to the job interview with Ferrari mainly for Charles’ sake because you could see that he was getting annoyed with you sleeping in a hotel and not accepting his invitation to stay in his spare bedroom. 

Now, here you were, walking into the Bahrain paddock with Charles at your side, laughing about something he’d just done that shouldn’t have been as funny as it was. You’d accepted the job because the thought of sitting at home any longer stressed you out because, to start with, it wasn’t home, and you were getting bored. 

You’d grown closer to Charles over the past three months, even joining him and some of your shared friends on a skiing trip meant to help him “train”. You just believed it was a pilot thing because whenever you opened Instagram, there was another F1 pilot skiing or snowboarding somewhere. 

“Are you feeling ready?” Charles asked, and you just smiled thinking about it 

“Yeah. I think this is where my dad wants me to be. Even if Mickey isn’t in the paddock anymore, it was our dream” Charles pulled you into his side as you walked. 

“Michael would want you to be here, and you already know that Mick wants you here” He smiled, and you nodded. 

“Yeah, you’re right” You stood up a little taller. 

“That’s it, ice cream girl”, He joked, and you pushed him away with a laugh.

“You know I always thought you’d end up with Arthur”, He hummed, and you looked at him with a raised eyebrow. 

“What?” You asked with a laugh 

“It just always looked like you two had a thing for each other. I got slightly jealous at one point,” He confessed, leading you into the hospitality with a hand on the small of your back. 

“You’re joking, right?” You asked, and he shook his head. You were about to respond when you were interrupted by Fred. You couldn’t tell your new boss to fuck off for a moment so you could continue this conversation, so you left them alone and went to make acquaintance with some of the other mechanics. 

An hour later, you were standing outside the Ferrari garage when Oliver walked by, looking stressed. You frown, pushing yourself off the wall and walking over. 

“Ollie”, You called out slightly. 

“Oh, Y/N. Hi” He smiled slightly; however, you could see that the smile didn’t reach his eyes. 

“Is everything okay?” You questioned gently 

“My dad was meant to come out for testing, but Thomas has this major competition where he needs a parent to go with him, and you know I’m nineteen. I don’t need a parent,” He informed, and you frowned, opening your arms to take him into your embrace. 

“Everyone needs their parents. What about your mum?” You asked, and he shook his head, and you instantly regretted asking

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realise,” You rambled, and he shook his head again with a laugh, moving his head from the crook of your neck. 

“No, it’s not like that” He giggled a little as you breathed.

“Every time she’s come to a race, it’s like she’s bad luck, so she doesn’t come any more,” He explained, and you nodded in understanding. 

“Well, Ferrari might not be exactly happy if I join you in the Haas garage; however, I will be in the Ferrari garage if you need some support. If you need some support regarding the car or driving, Charles will be more than happy to help you if he can,” You assure him, and he nods, pulling out of your arms. 

“Thank you. That helped a little,” He mumbles, and you nod 

“I might not be your mum or dad, but if you or Kimi need anything, I’ll always be willing to help if I can” You smiled, and he nodded 

“Thank you. I’ll tell him because he’s scared of you,” He confessed, and you chuckled 

“I’m not scary. I get my surname makes people scared, though” He nodded 

“He doesn’t want to say anything wrong even though he’s worked with Mick for years.” He laughed, and you could see that it was a genuine laugh. He wasn’t as stressed as he was when you started this conversation. 

“I’m better looking than Mick and Gina, though” You joked, and he laughed. You turned your head as your name was called.

“You know where to find me if you need me.” You smiled while walking over to the group of mechanics who were discussing. 

About an hour later, Charles was walking along to hospitality with you, and he bumped your shoulder with his own 

“And you talk about me having grid kids. It’s your first day here, and you’ve already got two” He chuckled, and you looked at him. 

“What, no, I don’t.” You frowned, and he nudged his head towards Andrea and Oliver, sitting outside the Ferrari hospitality. 

“It’s not my fault my motherly instincts kicked in! They’re just kids!” You exclaimed, and he nodded 

“I know they are. It’s a brutal world here as well” You sighed with a nod. You’d seen it from your side when Mick was going through it. You never really got to see your dad's race in person, and it’s something you wish you could change, but you can’t change your age.

“I think we need to talk tonight” You started looking up at him as you walked, to which he nodded. 

“I think so, too” He nodded with a smile. You separated from him, walking over to the young drivers. 

“You two are quite far from your garages and hospitalities”, you joked, and Ollie looked up with a smile. 

“Y/N!” He smiled, almost jumping out of his seat from seeing you

“Kimi and I were wondering if you’d be free tomorrow after testing.” You raised an eyebrow while looking between the two rookies.

“It’s not for anything bad!” Kimi adds, looking up at you

“We were joining some of the grid for drinks after testing and were kind of scared”, He whispered, and you nodded. 

“Yeah, I’ll be there, but you know there's nothing to fear. Most drivers are lovely, but I can give you insight on who to avoid when there’s alcohol on the go.” You winked while sitting down next to them to give them the gossip. 

Later that night, you cuddled Charles in his hotel bed with your head on his shoulder.

“I think we should talk about earlier before Fred interrupted”, you whispered, and he nodded slightly. Shifting so that he could see your face 

“Yeah, I think I confessed something I shouldn’t have?” He whispered, and you giggled a little 

“Want to repeat that confession?” You asked, and he frowned 

“Not really, non” He shook his head, and you couldn’t help but pout slightly

“Okay, fine. I said I got jealous when I thought you and Arthur liked each other” He sighed as you rested your chin on his chest. 

“And why would that be?” You asked with a slight smirk, and he pushed you away jokingly and with an eye roll. 

“Maybe because I also liked you?” He confessed in a whisper, and your eyes widened, not expecting him to admit that. 

“What?” You asked quietly, and he looked out the window 

“Don’t worry about it. I won’t let it change anything between us. It never has, and it never will” He shrugged, and you pushed yourself so you were sitting up next to him. Your hand reaches out to hold his jaw and turn his head to face you. Charles’ eyes avoided your own as you leaned down and pressed a kiss against his lips. 

It took him a moment before he finally kissed you back; your hand dropped from his jaw to his chest as his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him. After a few moments, you had to pull away, your forehead resting against the Ferrari driver. 

“I don’t have the same lung capacity as you”, you joked, allowing your breathing to calm down as he laughed a little. 

“Now, if I knew that all I had to do was confess that I was jealous, I would have done it a long time ago” He smiled, and you hummed, laying your head on his chest again. 

“We had kids before we even got together”, you joked, and he rolled his eyes. 

“Yeah, that is only a few years off our actual age” You shrugged in response, looking up at him as you kissed his jaw. Charles pulled you closer to his side.

When you and Charles finally returned to Monaco, you both decided to tell Pascale. Needless to say, the older woman was more than ecstatic about the situation, her dreams finally coming true for her son and now her daughter-in-law (well, almost. She didn’t care, though) 

Pascale had decided it was a reason to celebrate, so now you, Mick and the Leclerc family were out at a fancy restaurant she had picked. Charles’ warm hand was settled on your knee as he spoke to his brothers, and you talked to your own with your hand rested over his. 

“I wish Gina could have flown out for this. She would have loved to see you two” Mick smiled, a teasing tone hidden in his voice. 

“I wish she were here as well, but she’s giving us a niece, so can’t complain”, you replied with a slight shrug. 

“Your turn next,” Mick teased, and you rolled your eyes and shook your head. 

“You and Laila have been together a lot longer than we have”, you replied 

“Yeah, but you two have been friends since we started karting. You lived with him for some time. You’re basically a married couple.” He argued, and you shook your head 

“You and Laila are a married couple!” You exclaimed 

“Den Mund halten! Wir sind noch nicht verheiratet! Versuchen Sie, niemandem zu erzählen, dass der Verlobungsring in meiner Schublade liegt, oder?” He exclaimed (Shut up! We're not married yet! Try not to tell anyone the engagement ring is in my drawer. Will you?) as Charles turned his head to look at you both 

“Everything okay?” Charles asked 

“Mick’s just getting a little excited.” You smiled, pressing a kiss on his lips, to which he nodded, content with the answer. 

Later that night, you and Charles were cuddled in his bed. His hands threaded through your hair as one of your hands rested on his chest. 

“Can’t believe I get to call you mine, mon amour” He smiled, pressing a kiss into your hair as you looked up at him with a smile. 

“Well, you better believe it because you’re stuck with me twenty-four seven Schatz.” You hummed, kissing his jaw as your hand moved from his chest to his face, cupping his face. 

“To think that we started off racing together, and look at us now” He rested his head back on his pillow as you watched his face turn into his thinking face. After a moment, you spoke up. 

“What are you thinking about?” You asked softly 

“Just our journey getting to this point in life” He smiled 

“We did follow the best friends to lover troupe”, you joked, and he looked at you with a frown 

“The what?” He asked 

“Don’t worry about it, Schatz” You smiled 

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[seitmai]

Oh god so many thoughts

You sat up and laughed miserably. Your husband was lying to you. And you thought you knew what he was lying about. Tears filled your eyes as your hand rested on your belly where your younger daughter was moving around. Why was Bradley doing this to the three of you? 

🥺🥺🥺

You grabbed the second notebook, this one bright pink, and pulled it from the drawer. Only the first few pages were covered in his writing, but you soaked the words up greedily. To my second daughter, you are the third love of my life. I realize that sounds a little unfair, like you're coming in third place, but I promise that's not that case. It's only because I met your mom and your sister first. You're not even here yet, but I already know I love you just as much as I love them. And I can't wait to meet you, too.

Ahh and her not knowing and reading this is like a knife to the chest probably...

Before I get carried away, let me introduce myself. I'm your dad. It's my job to love you and take care of you. I'm not perfect, but I love you so much, I'll always try my best to be here for anything you need. To be honest, I never expected to have a family at all. And to be extra honest, you were a bit of a surprise. But a very good surprise. My favorite kind of surprise. I can't wait to teach you everything I know, which isn't much, but I do know how to love my three girls. 

You weren't sure if you'd be able to kick him out. You didn't know if you could leave him. If push came to shove, you didn't know if you could be that strong. You wished he wasn't making you consider it at all. 

💔💔💔

He never tried to hide the fact that he was married. He fucking flaunted it. You were perfect; why wouldn't he? If someone else thought they had a gorgeous wife? Ha, Bradley could lay it down in spades. Someone else claimed their wife was smart? Well, his was a goddamn genius. Someone wanted to brag about their kids? All he had to do was pull up a photo of Rose, and he had everyone around him swooning.

Oh how he loves to be a husband and dad🥺

He found it easier to make small talk about his family than anything else these days,

🥺🥺🥺

But would that have been fair? To leave her behind when she was the best? When she was clearly one of the pilots who should be moving forward with new programs? It wasn't like she ever touched him. Other than persistently inviting him for drinks and showing up for all of his office hours, she never made an advance. But now he was uncomfortable. There was something about the way she always looked at him that.....yeah, Nat was right.

Of course she was

Bradley's fingers curled around the edge of his desk as he looked down at his phone sitting there. "Uh...Mav, this is embarrassing." When Maverick took a step closer, he reached across the desk to cuff Bradley on the shoulder. "Just hit me with it."

I would love to know what is going on in Maverick's head in that exact moment

Maverick's expression gave nothing away, but he shifted his weight from one foot to the other before taking a step away from Bradley. "To be clear, Bradley, are you asking me to help you hide an indiscretion from your wife?" Bradley's head tilted slightly. "Huh?" he grunted, thoughts already swirling around his mind so rapidly, it took him a few seconds to catch up. "What the fuck, Mav? No!" he gasped. "An indiscretion?" He could barely even say the word as he shook his head. "No. God, no! Nothing happened! Nothing is ever going to happen!"

I truly hope Maverick has learned (from his own experiences?) that he would not side with Bradley if it was the case, for Carole and Goose the otp 🫰🏻

When Maverick hummed and went silent, Bradley said, "I know how ridiculous it sounds." "It doesn't," his godfather replied immediately.

Mav in his head:

"But she texted you before that. When you never explicitly gave her your number." Maverick looked up at him, shaking his head. "Bradley, what were you thinking? She seems to have some sort of agenda. You should have come to me immediately after the first message." Bradley stood, stomach lurching. His marriage, career, and reputation were somehow all on the line, and he hadn't even done anything. He couldn't help but think of his parents and the fact that his dad probably never put his mom through this kind of shit when she was seven months postpartum.

I think it finally catches up to Bradley... And yes his dad probably didn't put his mom through that but nobody compares to Carole and Goose🫶🏻

"You work in a high stakes field where women routinely outperform men. They are capable of anything you are."

As they should lmao

"I know that!" Bradley snapped. "But I'm married! I'm not looking for that shit. I never let on that I was." "Oh, you sweet summer child," Maverick sighed, checking his watch. "Literally," he added as he dug his own phone from his pocket. "If Lieutenant Jeffries is sending you photos and playing coy, she doesn't care about your wife."

Good god finally someone really laying it down so Bradley gets it too

You were crying. You didn't want Bradley to see you cry right now, but you couldn't stop. "This doesn't look like nothing. And you didn't tell her to stop." Now he looked panicked, eyes wide as he saw the photo on his phone in your hand. "Okay, I know this looks bad, but I reported it, I swear! I've never been alone with her behind closed doors. You can call Mav!"

This is not looking good...

Violent sobs shook your body, and when Bradley slowly let his hand settle on your arm, you shook him free. "You expect me to believe nothing is going on? When you get home late every day? When she told me that it's no wonder you prefer her since I let myself go?" you gasped, swiping at your tears. "What?" Bradley barked as you blindly handed his offending phone back to him. "She said that to you?"

If one thing can set Bradley's head straight, is Indigo going directly against his wife, I feel like this is a big line that has been crossed

You nodded miserably, taking a step away from him. "I don't want to know if you said that to her, or if she formed her own opinion after spending time with you. And I don't want to know if you're fucking her or just considering it. But I want you out of the house." Bradley looked like you just slapped him. His mouth was hanging open, brow creased while you sobbed. "You want me out?" he whispered, hand going up to rake his fingers through his hair. "Yes," you squeaked, trying to stay strong not just for yourself, but for your daughters as well. Every word hurt as you forced them out of your mouth, but you had to say them. "Go. Until I can talk to my parents about canceling the sale of their house. I'll transfer to Annapolis. Take the girls with me."

no words... just tears 😭😭😭

Bradley closed the distance to you, tears already pooling in his eyes as he dropped to his knees. His lips found your belly, and you sobbed harder as he wrapped his hands around your hips. "No. You can't," he said so softly, you could barely hear him. When he looked up at your face, you almost believed he would never be capable of hurting you. "Baby Girl, you can't leave me. I need you. I need my girls." When you stepped out of his grasp, his arms fell limply to his sides. You'd never seen him look so miserable before, and you had to stand firm instead of reaching for his hands.

💔💔💔

The implications of your own words stung your heart, and you had to watch him slowly get to his feet. He kissed your forehead, and your eyes blurred with fresh tears when he went down the hallway to Rose's room. Less than a minute passed, but each second felt like a day. You had plenty of time to tell him the truth. That you didn't want him to leave. That you couldn't blame him for wanting someone else, and you still needed him as much as he said he needed you. When he reappeared, you pressed your lips together even as he kissed your damp cheek. "I love you," he rasped. "I'm never going to stop loving you. I'll figure out some way to make you believe me."

Aim for the Sky Part 34 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Maverick makes time to have a conversation with Bradley, but you've already lost faith in him. Your words hurt him more than anything else could. 

Warnings: Angst, adult language, body image, DILF Roo, pregnancy, jealousy

Length: 3500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

When the mattress dipped and you felt the bedding shift around your legs, you opened your eyes to find Bradley climbing out of bed. The room was still dark, but his face was illuminated by his phone screen. The baby was thumping against your tender insides, making you wince, and your husband was playing around on his phone in the middle of the night. Or texting someone.

"What are you doing?" you croaked. Bradley's gaze snapped toward your face, and he leaned down to pull the covers to your shoulder.

"Uh, I need to head to base a little early," he whispered, tracing your cheek with his thumb. "To meet with Mav."

"What time is it?" you asked, rolling toward him to see his phone.

"Almost six," he replied, kissing your forehead as he tipped his screen away. "I love you. Try to get some more sleep."

You swallowed hard, rolling away from him as he started pulling his uniform from the closet. The rustle of fabric set your nerves on edge, and you squeezed your eyes shut as he got dressed. Maybe he thought you fell asleep again, because he didn't say another word before he left the room. But you were pretty sure you heard him stop in Rose's nursery before leaving the house.

Now you were wide awake and alone. Your phone told you it was 5:28 which was completely absurd. Neither you nor Bradley ever got to base before 8:00 unless you were working your ass off on a project.

He used Maverick as his excuse which seemed ridiculous. Bradley wasn't in the middle of training for a special mission which would require extra hours before daylight. And he had to know Maverick would only cover for him for so long.

You sat up and laughed miserably. Your husband was lying to you. And you thought you knew what he was lying about. Tears filled your eyes as your hand rested on your belly where your younger daughter was moving around. Why was Bradley doing this to the three of you? 

It wasn't like you couldn't tell how bad you looked at the moment. You knew it. You were bloated and chunky and broken out, but it was at least half his fault you were pregnant again in the first place. And you would make it a priority to get in shape after she was born. You would.

Your fingers were curled around the sheets, trying to keep yourself on your side of the bed, but you crawled toward Bradley's nightstand anyway. The lamp was too bright, taking your eyes a beat to adjust. You yanked the drawer open which offered almost no insight to anything except his Nugget Notebook with the pink and blue striped cover. But then you saw something underneath it.

You grabbed the second notebook, this one bright pink, and pulled it from the drawer. Only the first few pages were covered in his writing, but you soaked the words up greedily.

To my second daughter, you are the third love of my life. I realize that sounds a little unfair, like you're coming in third place, but I promise that's not that case. It's only because I met your mom and your sister first. You're not even here yet, but I already know I love you just as much as I love them. And I can't wait to meet you, too.

Before I get carried away, let me introduce myself. I'm your dad. It's my job to love you and take care of you. I'm not perfect, but I love you so much, I'll always try my best to be here for anything you need. To be honest, I never expected to have a family at all. And to be extra honest, you were a bit of a surprise. But a very good surprise. My favorite kind of surprise. I can't wait to teach you everything I know, which isn't much, but I do know how to love my three girls. 

"How?" you gasped, dropping the notebook back into the drawer. You sobbed into Bradley's pillow, unable to make sense of this. How was the man who wrote notebook passages to his children the same man who was sneaking around behind your back. With Indigo. It simply did not make sense, but both versions of him seemed to exist at the same time. And somehow you were the one who was more at odds with yourself than he was with himself.

You could feel the love he had for his daughters. It was so obvious. He was so good with Rose, and he seemed excited about having two kids.

You weren't sure if you'd be able to kick him out. You didn't know if you could leave him. If push came to shove, you didn't know if you could be that strong. You wished he wasn't making you consider it at all. 

--------------------------

"Oh, God."

Bradley was awake as soon as Maverick replied to his text at five in the morning. He'd barely been able to sleep anyway, but when Maverick told Bradley he was heading to Lemoore in a few hours for a meeting, he begged his godfather to meet with him first.

Now Bradley was sitting in his office in a silent building waiting for any help he could get. As far as he had worked out, Indigo had been devouring his extra attention for weeks for a less savory reason than he originally thought. All the times she invited him out for a drink left him shaking his head while he stared at the wedding photo perched in his desk. 

He never tried to hide the fact that he was married. He fucking flaunted it. You were perfect; why wouldn't he? If someone else thought they had a gorgeous wife? Ha, Bradley could lay it down in spades. Someone else claimed their wife was smart? Well, his was a goddamn genius. Someone wanted to brag about their kids? All he had to do was pull up a photo of Rose, and he had everyone around him swooning.

He found it easier to make small talk about his family than anything else these days, and he was sure Indigo knew he was married before he even left Texas to fly back to San Diego. It still seemed unlikely she wanted to sleep with him, but he wasn't going to deny that Nat was usually right about these things.

"Oh, God," Bradley groaned for probably the tenth time since he woke up. He wanted to rewind and go back to Texas and never select Indigo in the first place. 

But would that have been fair? To leave her behind when she was the best? When she was clearly one of the pilots who should be moving forward with new programs? It wasn't like she ever touched him. Other than persistently inviting him for drinks and showing up for all of his office hours, she never made an advance. But now he was uncomfortable. There was something about the way she always looked at him that.....yeah, Nat was right.

But if Bradley couldn't handle his first assignment in his new position, how was he supposed to prove he could do this going forward?

There was a knock on his already open door, and Maverick stood there looking perplexed. "Bradley? What did you need that couldn't wait until later this week?"

Bradley groaned again as he stood. "Can you shut the door?"

"Sure."

Maverick let it slip from his fingers, and Bradley waited until the echo of the door closing gave way to silence. He could feel his godfather's gaze on his face as his eyes closed. He swallowed hard, not wanting to waste the other man's time, but now that he was here, he felt so stupid. 

"I need your help," Bradley rasped, voice hoarse as his eyes opened. "It's work related."

"Okay," Maverick replied, voice between a statement and a question. "What can I do?"

Bradley's fingers curled around the edge of his desk as he looked down at his phone sitting there. "Uh...Mav, this is embarrassing."

When Maverick took a step closer, he reached across the desk to cuff Bradley on the shoulder. "Just hit me with it."

Bradley took a long breath and let it out slowly. "There's another officer who... well, it's been brought to my attention that she..." He let go of his desk and rubbed his fingertips against his eyes. "There's a chance my wife thinks something's going on between me and another officer on base. One who reports to me."

Maverick's expression gave nothing away, but he shifted his weight from one foot to the other before taking a step away from Bradley. "To be clear, Bradley, are you asking me to help you hide an indiscretion from your wife?"

Bradley's head tilted slightly. "Huh?" he grunted, thoughts already swirling around his mind so rapidly, it took him a few seconds to catch up. "What the fuck, Mav? No!" he gasped. "An indiscretion?" He could barely even say the word as he shook his head. "No. God, no! Nothing happened! Nothing is ever going to happen!"

He realized he was shouting when Maverick's hands flew into the air in surrender. "Okay. Alright. I hear you loud and clear. I just needed to be sure I understand what we're dealing with here. Why don't you have a seat and explain everything to me?"

Bradley was raking his fingers through his hair as he dropped down into his chair. "It's Lieutenant Jeffries. Indigo." Her intense blue eyes filled his mind as he shook his head. "Phoenix and Hangman pointed out that she..." He paused and glanced at the ceiling. "This is so embarrassing, Mav, but they said it seems like she wants to sleep with me."

"Hmm."

When Maverick hummed and went silent, Bradley said, "I know how ridiculous it sounds."

"It doesn't," his godfather replied immediately. "This sort of thing happens sometimes. You said nothing happened? You should keep your distance moving forward, and if she contacts you outside of work or does anything inappropriate, we can write it up."

Bradley groaned miserably, unlocked his phone, and pushed it across the desk with his messages open. "She did text me outside of work."

While Maverick reached for the phone, he said, "Did you give her your number?"

"No. Why would I do that?" he replied. "But honestly, it's not hard to get access to that kind of information. I didn't think much of it the first time."

Maverick shrugged. "Well, what did she text-" His eyes grew wide when he looked down at the phone, his cheeks turning pink as he was surely looking at the photo that had been in Bradley's messages for less than twelve hours.

"Yeah," Bradley croaked. "She sent that last night."

"But she texted you before that. When you never explicitly gave her your number." Maverick looked up at him, shaking his head. "Bradley, what were you thinking? She seems to have some sort of agenda. You should have come to me immediately after the first message."

Bradley stood, stomach lurching. His marriage, career, and reputation were somehow all on the line, and he hadn't even done anything. He couldn't help but think of his parents and the fact that his dad probably never put his mom through this kind of shit when she was seven months postpartum.

"An agenda?" Bradley whispered. "Shit, Mav. This is the kind of thing that happens on carriers. Not on base. I thought this was something men did way more than women when they wanted to cheat."

Maverick handed his phone back across the desk with the photo of Indigo open. Bradley swiped out of the text thread immediately, sick to his stomach. 

"You work in a high stakes field where women routinely outperform men. They are capable of anything you are."

"I know that!" Bradley snapped. "But I'm married! I'm not looking for that shit. I never let on that I was."

"Oh, you sweet summer child," Maverick sighed, checking his watch. "Literally," he added as he dug his own phone from his pocket. "If Lieutenant Jeffries is sending you photos and playing coy, she doesn't care about your wife."

Bradley winced. "Fuck."

"Yeah," Maverick grunted, taking a few steps toward the door. "And your wife is pregnant and vulnerable, and now I'm going to have to tell Admiral Simpson that I'll be late getting to Lemoore. Follow me. And bring your phone."

-------------------------------------

Bradley was late getting home. This was happening almost every night now, and you were hanging on by a thread as Rose screamed in your arms. She was fed, but she always seemed to prefer the way Bradley burped her over your technique.

"He's not here," you said through gritted teeth. "I don't know where he is or when he'll be back. I just need you to burp so you can go to sleep."

Your texts had gone unanswered. You weren't sure if Bradley had been in the cafeteria at lunchtime, because you hid in your office. Dinnertime had come and gone, and his cold plate of food was currently sitting on the kitchen counter.

"I don't know where he is," you repeated to your daughter while her younger sister did somersaults against your bladder. Rose's sobs finally started to taper off as you rubbed your hand firmly against her back. She finally burped, and that seemed to do the trick. Her fists curled up next to her face as she yawned. You barely had enough time to change her into a clean diaper and pajamas before her eyes were closed.

You were mentally, physically, and emotionally drained. You stood in her nursery, watching her sleep while you decided you needed to say something to your husband tonight. There was no way you could keep punishing yourself for not being enough. If he wanted someone else, you deserved to have him say it to your face.

But when you heard him open the front door thirty minutes later, your heart lurched into your stomach at the sight of him. You'd known how handsome he was since the day you met him, and he only seemed to get better looking with age. Each year added more silver to his hair and laugh lines to his face, but he was undeniably sexy.

Today, however, he looked exhausted, and your brain went wild with awful ideas. What had he gotten up to? Why was he so late? The top buttons of his uniform were undone, and his hair was mussed. He was staring down at his phone in his hand while you stood silently at the end of the hallway, terrified of what he was looking at.

Suddenly everything you'd been holding inside for weeks was bubbling up to the surface, and you were done holding it back. You cleared your throat, and his gaze snapped up to your face, phone hanging in his hand by his side.

"Hey, Sweetheart. Is Rosie already asleep?"

You nodded, taking each step slowly until you were standing right in front of him. When he reached for you, his fingers skimmed your shoulder before you pushed his hand away. Those beautiful, brown eyes you loved so much went wide, but he didn't look surprised. Not at all.

"Why are you so late?" you snapped. "And don't feed me some bullshit about office hours, because I know your schedule. Or, at least, I know what they are supposed to be."

Bradley licked his lips, gesturing between the two of you with his phone. "I had to take care of something important with Maverick."

You wanted to laugh in his face. "You're really going to use the same excuse as this morning? Another meeting with Maverick? What, one was at the crack of dawn and the other was after dinnertime? I've been texting you for hours, Bradley."

You watched his Adam's apple bob. "I didn't have my phone with me for part of the day."

"You have it now!" you laughed sardonically, pointing at his hand just in time to see his phone light up. 

It was her. You saw her name there. Indigo. She was texting your husband well after work hours, and you could already feel the tears stinging your eyes.

You grabbed his phone before he seemed to realize what was happening. Your fingers shook as you entered his passcode to find it was still your birthday. He wasn't even trying to hide this from you. He wasn't trying to take his phone back. As you braced yourself for what you were about to see, you whispered, "What the fuck is going on with her?"

His brown eyes were so sincere, and once again, you couldn't understand how this was the same man who wrote journals for his unborn children. "Nothing," he replied, voice taking on a tone of defeated exhaustion. "There's nothing going on."

Your eyes dipped down to his phone to find not one, but two flirtatious selfies. One new one, and one that was sent last night while he was working out in the garage. Indigo's eyes stared back at you from the screen, mocking you, making a fool of your family.

You were crying. You didn't want Bradley to see you cry right now, but you couldn't stop. "This doesn't look like nothing. And you didn't tell her to stop."

Now he looked panicked, eyes wide as he saw the photo on his phone in your hand. "Okay, I know this looks bad, but I reported it, I swear! I've never been alone with her behind closed doors. You can call Mav!"

Violent sobs shook your body, and when Bradley slowly let his hand settle on your arm, you shook him free. "You expect me to believe nothing is going on? When you get home late every day? When she told me that it's no wonder you prefer her since I let myself go?" you gasped, swiping at your tears.

"What?" Bradley barked as you blindly handed his offending phone back to him. "She said that to you?"

You nodded miserably, taking a step away from him. "I don't want to know if you said that to her, or if she formed her own opinion after spending time with you. And I don't want to know if you're fucking her or just considering it. But I want you out of the house."

Bradley looked like you just slapped him. His mouth was hanging open, brow creased while you sobbed. "You want me out?" he whispered, hand going up to rake his fingers through his hair.

"Yes," you squeaked, trying to stay strong not just for yourself, but for your daughters as well. Every word hurt as you forced them out of your mouth, but you had to say them. "Go. Until I can talk to my parents about canceling the sale of their house. I'll transfer to Annapolis. Take the girls with me."

Bradley closed the distance to you, tears already pooling in his eyes as he dropped to his knees. His lips found your belly, and you sobbed harder as he wrapped his hands around your hips. "No. You can't," he said so softly, you could barely hear him. When he looked up at your face, you almost believed he would never be capable of hurting you. "Baby Girl, you can't leave me. I need you. I need my girls."

When you stepped out of his grasp, his arms fell limply to his sides. You'd never seen him look so miserable before, and you had to stand firm instead of reaching for his hands.

"Find somewhere else to sleep."

The implications of your own words stung your heart, and you had to watch him slowly get to his feet. He kissed your forehead, and your eyes blurred with fresh tears when he went down the hallway to Rose's room. Less than a minute passed, but each second felt like a day. You had plenty of time to tell him the truth. That you didn't want him to leave. That you couldn't blame him for wanting someone else, and you still needed him as much as he said he needed you.

When he reappeared, you pressed your lips together even as he kissed your damp cheek. "I love you," he rasped. "I'm never going to stop loving you. I'll figure out some way to make you believe me."

You watched him retreat to the front door with his keys, shoulders sagging as he gave you one last lingering look before slipping out into the darkness.

------------------------------------

Ouch. Ouch. Okay. I want BG to believe Roo beyond any doubt, and I think I know how to make that happen. Please stay tuned. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

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[kooggukk]

𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 NOBODY ELSE // JJK

genre: fwb, fuck buddies😼

note: guys i just want jungkook.. this has been sitting in my drafts for way too long haha sorry for spelling mistakes or anything i got too lazy to proofread it lol! enjoy tho💕

word count: 4.3k

being invited by jungkook’s mother for a dinner was normal for you and your family. you and jungkook grew up being neighbors, attend to the same high school and college later on — which he dropped out of.

it wasn’t because he’s dumb, he’s nowhere near that. he got bored, tired. his mother didn’t like the news when he told her, but she didn’t have a choice, other than to support his dream. jungkook always wished to be a singer.

some of his closest friends joked about it and laughed at the idea of jungkook being a worldwide celebrity. we could say that affected him a lot, he felt zero support from both sides: family & friends. he would often spend his days in his house, sitting on a particular part of his couch.

maybe you know him too well, you know that when he’s writing a song he would get a glass of beer, place it carefully on his coffee table, get his black notebook with his pen that he would click continuously when he’s deep in thoughts.

you know he would knee on the soft mattress beneath him, sitting on his feet like a cutie, focus on the lyrics with his big doe eyes.

you also know he would obviously play with his lip piercing, licking it, turning his tongue around it and what not. oh what that tongue can do.

the amount of times he had eaten you out on his couch, — on that spot of the couch — you wouldn’t even be able to count on your ten fingers. your friendship with him was different.

different, because you support him and understand him in a way nobody else had yet. but different because he fucks you, like crazy. he had fucked you in every way possible. fast, rough, deep, gentle, slow, anal. the last one was just once, though.

it all started at your birthday party, when you turned 25. you got wasted, he got tipsy, he knew about his whereabouts unlike you. he knew what was going on when he fucked you first, but what was he supposed to do when a woman like you, was literally begging to fuck you.

he felt guilty, he felt like he took advantage of the alcohol in your system. but when you woke up in the morning, with jungkook next to you, cuddled up, you didn’t freak out. you knew what happened, and you didn’t regret it. nor did he.

you know it shouldn’t be right, that it shouldn’t feel that good to get fucked by your best friend but god, you can’t help it. he admitted it, he finds you attractive. you find him it too.

but you both talked it out, no feelings. he told you he’d never want anything else from you other than your friendship and pussy.

and now, you’re sitting at the dining table with jungkook in front of you, his mother next to him and his father at the end. your mother on the other end as your father is next to you.

it’s normal, the atmosphere was comfortable and funny. the adults discussing work related stuff, your and his mother had already gossiped about someone else too.

it was a perfect night, except that jungkook hasn’t taken his eyes off of you the entire dinner, except when he got asked a question. you scolded him, non verbally with your eyes.

he’s a jerk. he just fucked you the night before, not on his couch this time though. it was in his kitchen, where he got too turned on by seeing you cut a cucumber. yes, a dang cucumber.

“so ___, i heard you finished college.” his mother spoke to you, your gaze turned to her and you smiled. “oh yes, last week actually.”

“what major were you in?” his father joined in. “psychology.” your mother interrupted and reached over to rub your back, feeling extremely proud of her daughter. you smiled, “i’m thinking about going back, i’ve been researching a lot on nursing lately.”

your eyes stopped on jungkook once again. he’s leaned back in the chair, one arm resting on the back of his mother’s chair, the other resting on his thigh. his chin is slightly lifted, looking at you as he plays with his lip piercing. fuck.

the parents continued the conversation, telling different stories about nurses as that came up. jungkook leans back to the table, resting his chin with his hands, elbows on the table.

he stares at you, not uttering a single word. you give him a small frown, not too noticeable. his eyes drop to your neck, then your chest or atleast what only was visible, then back to your eyes. you chuckled and shook your head in disbelief, he’s seriously thinking of sex right now.

you’ve tried to keep your ‘let’s fuck’ relationship with jungkook private, not going around and telling every second person that ‘hey i fuck my best friend!’. the only person who might know that you and him slept together is one of your friends from college, she saw you and jungkook that one night. the first night.

she hasn’t asked about it though, thankfully. it’s not like it was her business, so she dropped it. you knew he wouldn’t try anything with you in public, especially not in front of your parents. so that’s why it caught you off guard when you felt his leg touch yours, slightly nudging it.

you cleared your throat as you jumped a little from the surprise, a smirk on his lips as he stared at your flustered form. you cussed him out in your head, ‘fuck you’ you mouthed and he just raised a brow at that.

you rolled your eyes as you realized he wouldn’t mind that, his eyes still devouring the sight of you, almost fucking you with his eyes at this point. you don’t even wanna know what he’s thinking about at the moment.

“jungkookie, have you found yourself a girlfriend?” your mother asked, catching his attention. he fixed his posture and shook his head, “no, i’m not looking for a relationship at the moment.”

“he’s such a liar!” his mother pointed at him, “i know he’s seeing someone.” she said and took a sip of her wine. “am i?” he raised his eyebrow, his voice laced with confusion. “deny it all you want, but i found a lipstick in your pocket when you came home.”

his expression changed, his eyes somewhat turned nervous, scared even. you stared at him with a small smirk, taking a sip of your soda. he glanced at you, “must’ve been ___’s.” he chuckled and shook his head.

“and why would her lipstick be in your pocket?” his mother asked, obviously she didn’t believe him. “we came here together, i believe she put it there so she could use it if her makeup gets smudged.” he shrugged.

he was right, that was in fact the reason you put it there. “oh yeah, it’s mine.” you said, a small smile appearing on your lips. his mother nodded and with that the conversation was over. thank god.

as everyone finished eating, your and his mother disappeared into the kitchen, your fathers went outside to have a beer while ‘man talking’ or however they called it. leaving you and jungkook alone.

“you wanna die?” you scolded him, your voice was quiet not to get caught. “i swear junkook, i’ll choke you.” he grinned and rested his head on his hands, smiling at you like a child. “what?” you asked.

“choke me? is that your new kink?” he teased, his foot finding yours again under the table. you clicked your tongue and crossed your arms, “do you ever stop thinking about sex?”

“nope. impossible when you’re around me, babe.” there he goes again, he always somehow finds a way to get you hot. he just knows what to say every time. “you’re unbelievable.” you can’t help but to smile with a shake of your head.

“what? you’re acting like you didn’t just strip me off with your eyes.” he teased and you gasped, “i did not-“ you stuttered, you got caught. “you’re the one to speak.” you argued back.

“i’m not denying it, i did wish to rip that pretty blouse off you.”

“i dare you, it was expensive. the only thing ripping will be your balls when i beat you up.” he scoffed at your words. “c’mon, you wouldn’t do that.”

“you think so?” you raised an eyebrow and he hummed in response. “how would i fuck you without balls?” again, he just knows what to say to drive you crazy.

“touché.” you mumbled and raised your glass to take a sip again.

✩•.𖣠°˙★

the evening came to an end as you both bid goodbye to your parents, you thanked his mother for the delicious meal. he offered to take you home and you agreed, assuming you’d end up at his place anyways. but your parents didn’t have to know about that.

and it happened just like that, the moment you stepped in his home you were pushed to the wall with force. you gasped, jungkook didn’t leave a single second for you to react as he attacked your lips, kissing you.

he held your face in place by your cheeks, your small reticule dropped from your hand as you hugged him close, kissing him back with just as much force and desperation as he did.

his right hand went to grab your ass, then holding your thigh as you lifted it up. he immediately pushed himself closer to you, grinding his growing erection against you.

not wanting to fuck you right at the front door, he dragged you to his living room, pushing you on the couch. he grinned at you and he dropped to his knees, the loud thud must have been hurtful, but he didn’t waste a single second.

he eagerly gripped the hem of your jeans, undoing it and pulling it off you, lifting your hips to help him. “hm, good.” he praised you for that small action of yours, his voice enough to create an ocean in your panties.

he touched your knees and thighs, caressing your skin while he leaned in to plant kisses on your inner thigh. he pulled you a little down, holding your legs tightly and he spread them. “don’t close.” he demanded, his voice hoarse and it sent you shivers down your spine.

you gasped once again when you felt him kiss you on your panties, he pulled away to take off his black turtleneck sweater but went right back in, pulling off your panties in a second.

the cold air hit your core immediately, but soon replaced by the heat coming from his body. he licked a stripe down your pussy, getting a hum out of you at the familiar feeling of his mouth working on you.

your mouth fell agape when he sucked on your clit, your hands finding their way to his black hair, getting a great hold of them. he groaned at your action, he knows you like to get a hold of his hair, so he hasn’t cut it in some months now.

he pulled away, you almost whined about him stopping but then he spread your folds with his fingers, spreading your wetness on his digits. he glanced up at you when he brought them to his lips, licking them.

he hummed, “love it.” he said, his voice a low growl. one of his hand rests on your thigh, gripping it softly. the other goes to your core again, inserting his finger in you. his head goes back down, disappearing between your legs once again as he starts sucking again, his finger pumping into you.

your back arched, unintentionally. “oh, fuck,” your breath hitched, he smirked against you. he added another of his long digits, curling them inside you, he pulled away as he stared into your eyes, then his gaze dropped to his hand working on you.

he groaned at the sight, he’s slept with girls before you, it was obvious he was experienced, but he could swear on his life your pussy was the prettiest he has ever seen in his whole life.

“so pretty,” his voice was teasing and you gasped his name, pulling his head up. “shut up,” your voice was a low murmur and he raised an eyebrow at your sass.

“what? can’t i call what’s mine pretty?” he chuckled and shook his head, secretly adding a third finger. “i don’t want your fingers,” you whined, your hips moving on their own. “i need to get you stretched, babe.” he grinned and he continued, his three fingers now going in a slower pace.

“no,” you stopped his hand, “i’m okay, just-“ you licked your lips, his gaze dropping to them. “shit, just fuck me already.” your voice was more like a whisper, full of need. “you’re tight, i don’t want to hurt you.” he argued back, but his fingers were already out of you as he wiped them in his jeans.

you sat up straight on the couch, closing your legs. “c’mon, you fucked me enough already. i can take you,” he couldn’t help but to let out a small laugh and he nodded, “love that you speak your mind.”

with that said, he got up from the floor and leaned down to kiss your forehead, “i’ll be back,” that one small action of his is why you trust him, how you know that he is the right guy to be fuck buddies with.

he can be rough during sex, there’s no doubt in that, but you had experienced gentle sex too with him. roughness isn’t always necessary to get rid of the sexual frustration, and maybe, maybeeeee, you like it more when he’s gentle with you.

you like it more when his body is pressed against yours, slowly moving with the rhythm of his deep thrusts, you love it when he goes to hold your hand, either above your head or next to you, it doesn’t matter. you love it when he stares in your eyes with every thrust. unlike during rough sex, when his eyes are either closed or focused on your tits.

soon he comes back, a pack of condom with him, some tissues and a towel. “what’s the towel for?” you ask, he never brought one before. he smiled at that and when he got to you, he plopped down on the couch. “just in case.” he shrugged but you felt suspicious, he was up to something.

he put everything aside and leaned in, crashing his lips on yours once again. “how do you want it?” he asked when he pulled away, but he still managed to give a soft peck on your nose.

you frowned because he usually wasn’t like this, wasn’t so affectionate. sure, in other ways he was, especially after sex. he always takes care of you, but he never just pecks you in random places and asks how you want it.

“however you want me.” you shrugged. “you’re up to something, you’re suspicious.” you narrowed your eyes at him and he grinned. “suspicious?” he asked as he started to unbutton your blouse. you hummed and leaned back, letting him do it.

“i’m not suspicious.” he said and kissed the skin just above your breasts, he pulled the clothing off your shoulders when he finished with all the buttons, leaving you in your bra.

“you’re very detailed tonight, aren’t you?” you sighed and reached behind, undoing your bra with a smooth move. “detailed?” he frowned and reached to his belt, unbuckling it.

you hummed and reached to unzip his jeans, with a lift of his hips you pulled it down, his dick begging to be freed from his white underwear. you could feel yourself throb by just the thought of having sex with him again, when in fact you just did it yesterday too.

“it don’t bite.” jungkook chuckled when he saw you were just staring, god, almost drooling at this point. you rolled your eyes, holding the hem of the underwear. you pulled it off, his dick sprang free.

you could let anyone call you stupid, you don’t care but for sure you know that jungkook’s dick is pretty. of course it would be, that whole man is a god. he sighed in pleasure when you wrapped your fingers around him, his head thrown back.

you started off slowly, stroking him with smooth, unrushed moves as you watched his face. his eyes closed, mouth open and eyebrows knitted together. soon you picked up your pace, earning low groans and sometimes even moans from him.

you started to kiss his neck, nibbling on his soft skin. he cursed, it was his favorite when you kissed his body. his breaths came in ragged gasps, his chest heaving with every breath he took.

“shit, ___.” he uttered a low groan, “don’t stop, oh- please..” you hummed at his begging, jerking him off as fast as you could. he was close, you know well enough to see when he has an orgasm.

you see the way his thighs occasionally stiff, his grip on the pillow that reached his hand first is tight. and then you see his eyes staring down at you, sometimes rolling back and closing, then opening them again. you see how his mouth is agape, his low groans turning into soft moans and cries, his brows crashed together on his forehead.

he was just straight up mesmerizing. sometimes you felt like the luckiest woman on earth that you could capture him in this state. which he was in because of you, nobody else.

“please plea-“ his voice cracked, ending it with a louder moan as he reached his orgasm, spilling his white juice on your hand. you didn’t stop there, you slowed down your pace, but you just couldn’t stop.

he hissed when he started to feel sensitive, bringing his head straight back up from the backrest to look at you. “___, don’t,” he whined. you cupped his chin, pressing a soft, feather-light kiss on his rosy lips.

he lazily responded to it, barely moving his lips. he brought his hand on yours, stopping you from jerking him. you pulled away, “just give me a second, babe,” his voice came out hoarse, your heart skipped a beat and your pussy throbbed by the nickname.

he licked his lips, clearing his voice. “you still with me?” you smiled, your hand reaching to his hair, gently pulling a few strands of them. he scoffed and fixed his posture, his hand grabbing your thigh.

“you gotta do more than just a handjob to lose me.”

“more? i can do more.” you mumbled, your face already in his neck, kissing his skin once again.

“i know you can,” his hand went from your thigh to your hip, helping you straddle his lap. you both moved naturally, riding him is definitely in your top 3 positions.

you quickly handed him a condom from the box which he put on in a second and just like every time, your arms went around his neck, grabbing onto his shoulder while he hugged your body close to his with one of his arms, the other hand holding his cock, he carefully entered, stretching you good like he always does.

he sighed in content, enjoying your warm walls clenching around him. you hummed, letting yourself down completely on him, only to go back up, then to smash back down.

his hands grabbed your ass while you did that, helping you keep the steady rhythm. his head was now thrown back once again, you watched his adam’s apple bob when he swallowed, his mouth fell open.

you kissed his neck again, wherever you could reach. for some reason, it was your favorite spot to kiss, under his jaw, behind and under his ear, just right above his collarbone, you loved it.

oh how much he loved it too, your kisses were always wet but never to the point to leave his skin covered in saliva. you were always so gentle with him, maybe that’s what he loved the most.

he had been with a few girls before who would stupidly and harshly just bite down on his skin, leaving ugly marks all over his neck and shoulders, but with you, never. it could be to just avoid any attention by giving him hickies, or it could be because you found it too intimate, too romantic.

whatever the reason was, he knew he sometimes wished, maybe even prayed that this time you would mark him, even if it’s the smallest spot on his skin. of course, he would never tell you to do that, though. marking really does feel too intimate, and he was afraid he would cross a line with you.

he realized what he was missing out on, so he held his head up, looking at you move. your breasts moved just enough to catch his eyes. his fingers dug in your asscheeks as your own hands explored his body, from caressing his chest, then slightly brushing your fingers over his nipples, down to his ribs, and to his abs.

he felt you slowing down, “s’okay, take a break,” he whispered and you did so, stopping your movements. your chest was rising rapidly, sweat forming on both of your foreheads.

he softly pecked your cheek, lifting you up by your ass just enough so he can start pushing upwards into you. he didn’t rush anything, going slowly at a comfortable pace. “you okay?” he asked, his eyes searching for yours.

you sighed, giving him a nod but he shook his head. “words,” he mumbled, leaning in to kiss your skin just above your breasts.

“i’m okay,”

he groaned when you clenched around him, he felt himself slowly slipping down on the couch with each thrust he made, so he held you tightly, switching positions.

he made you lay down on your back, your legs wrapped around his waist without slipping out of you. he picked up a slow pace at first, his hands roaming around your body, mostly your sides.

you held his hand, “stop,” you whined, your sides are hella ticklish. “hm? what? can’t handle a little caressing?” he teased, moving his hand so slightly over your skin you got goosebumps.

you tried to push his hand away but you failed, his touches made you giggle and he smiled, glad he could still have moments like this with you in the middle of literally fucking.

all of that stopped when he suddenly smashed himself deep into you, a little harder than he did before. you couldn’t help but to moan, he straightened his posture and he spread your legs, holding your knees.

just like when you were riding him, your breasts bounced again, drawing the attention on them. he picked up the speed of his thrusts, sweat dropping from his forehead, down to his chest where it slowly dripped down his body.

“so a nurse, huh?” he suddenly said, referring to the conversation you had at the dinner. “would love to fuck this pussy in a nursing costume.” a low moan left his mouth when you clenched around him, “ya like that?” he laughed. “you want it too, yeah?”

“shut up- oh my!” your mouth fell agape in pleasure when you felt a finger pressing down on your clit, moving in every way possible. up and down, side to side, making circles. he wasn’t too rough, he knew it was one of your most sensitive parts of your body.

the top of his thighs slapped against the back of yours with every thrust, the sound of skin slapping on each other got mixed with the noise of your wet folds taking his dick, the couch slightly creaking along with heavy breathing and occasional quiet moans, whines.

you felt yourself getting closer and closer, the familiar feeling already in your stomach. you felt like you were going to explode, your eyes shut tightly as you bite down on your lip, your body ready to let go.

after a few more of his thrusts you let go, but oh! turns out it wasn’t just your usual orgasm, no, you squirted under him. he pulled out, watching your body shake and then slowly relax. “fuck,” you breathed heavily, you could have sworn you saw stars.

“did i s-“

“yes. you squirted.” he said, like that was something casual. you thought it was over, that he was done but then he did the unexpected, he pushed back in. “just a little- longer,” his words came out in gasps, pounding into you to reach his own climax too.

you whined, you felt extremely sensitive and it was slowly turning to be the opposite of pleasure, “i know, just a little more,” his voice was soft, he knew it was too much but he needed that orgasm.

then, his thrusts suddenly stopped, staying still inside you as he filled the condom, a low groan leaving his lips. he licked them, feeling like his mouth just turned drier than a desert. he pulled out and leaned down to peck your lips, “you did good,” he whispered.

you hummed, your fingers already touching your core, the wetness surprising you. “dang..” you both chuckled, you sat up and looked down, feeling uncomfortable. there was a wet spot on the towel under you, “you bitch, that’s why you needed the towel.” you shook your head in disbelief, “scared i’ll stain your sofa?”

he smiled and tilted his head, resting his ass on his heels. “actually, yes. you know it was expensive.”

“then, maybe you shouldn’t fuck me on it?”

he chuckled, “maybe, but i don’t care. you’re worth it all.”

[jsmainblog]

Hii, I had an idea for something from Spencer x Fem Reader. where she is one of the youngest on the team, along with Spencer, they are a couple and she has a daughter-father relationship with Aaron. She always plays different board games with Hii, I had an idea for something from Spencer x Fem Reader. where she is one of the youngest on the team, along with Spencer, they are a couple and she has a daughter-father relationship with Aaron. She always plays different board games with him, and he always beats him, she always blames him with Aaron, and one day when they were playing chess she beats him. She gets very happy and celebrates about it, and when everyone gets off the plane Aaron says something like 'you let her win right?' and Spencer responds 'yes, but look at her, she looks so happy'.

Bragging Rights °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

a/n: yeah sure thing that sounds so cute!!! i hope this is kinda along the lines of what you wanted!!!!! I'm sorry if this is kinda bad :((

The case had been a gruelling one which kept many BAU members under stress. You had been stressed out for the past week working on the case putting your all into find the unsub. Everyone could see it, even Hotch who asked if you were going okay and if you needed a break he would be happy to give you one so your mind could take a break. Many members had felt worried about you including your boyfriend Spencer Reid.

When you got onto the jet it seemed like a physical weight had been lifted from your shoulders. It had been such a stressful week all you wanted to do was get home, take a hot shower and unwind on the couch with a hot cup of tea. Hotch came and placed a paternal hand on your shoulder as he walked past, providing a subtle comfort for you. You smiled up at him as he mouthed "you good?" earning him a nod from you. Spencer sat down across from you smiling.

"Hey angel up for some more chess? Maybe you could actually beat me this time who knows?" he teases

"Oh I'm defeintly going to beat you"

"Yeah but last time you said that you lost same with the time before that and the time before that and so on and so forth. But who knows maybe the tables will turn." he says

The game played out. As usual he always let you have the white side so you go first. This game was different though, it looked like you might...win?

When you finally squandered Spencer's king you let out a triumphant cheer. JJ leaned over and highfived you.

"That's the first time anyones won against Spence, good job!!" she cheers before shooting a knowing look towards Spencer who raised his hands in a playful surrender.

"Well looks like the student becomes the master. Good job baby." he says gently leaning over to peck your lips which you met in enthusiasm. You were clapped on the back by Hotch afterwards who congratulated you.

"Good job y/n. I'm proud of you." he murmurs before looking at Reid with a questioning look before smiling to himself.

"So do I have bragging rights now?" you question playfully to which Spencer rolls his eyes.

"Yes my lovely you do."

"Yay!!!"

When the plane finally lands Spencer lets you go ahead as you excitedly chat to Garcia.

"You let her win right?" Hotch says coming up behind him making Spencer jump a little

"Hm?" he hums

"Y/n. You let her win at chest right?"

"Yeah..But look at her she looks so happy and she needed this especially after the last case." Spencer murmurs.

Hotch and Spencer smile both gazing at you with affection as you cross the tarmac.

"I love her." Spencer blurts which earns Hotch's attention.

"I know you do."

[lovewithmary]

loving hearts (and growing homes), max verstappen & charles leclerc — one

an f1 x mcu crossover

★ fc: madison beer ☆ pairing: stark!oc x max verstappen (current), poly!max verstappen x stark!oc x charles leclerc (future) ★ summary: evangeline "evie" stark has been the subject of headlines even before she was born, subjecting her to much scrutiny over the years. ever since she became a teenager, the media has always speculated on who she was dating, whether it be her long-time best friend/colleague peter parker, or fellow billionaire's child, harry osborn, or whoever they can connect evie with. frankly, it was a little disparaging considering that she's been in a relationship with one max verstappen since they were 15. however, once their relationship has been revealed, will their relationship stay the same, or does a certain monegasque ferrari driver have something to say about it? (spoiler alert: charles wants both of them, not just one) ☆ notes: to those of you who are familiar with my work, this is a reboot of one of my old series, (not) moving on. however, this series is not going to be like (not) moving on, as i've changed a lot of things about the series and what's coming up. so i hope you guys enjoy it!

( 1997, 2004, 2009 ) ( pictures are in chronological order )

( 2012 )

Evie's phone buzzed, removing her attention from what she was working on to grab her phone quickly. She smiled at the sight of Max's text and texted back.

"Is that lover boy texting you? Do I have to revoke your phone privileges or can you refrain from making puppy dog eyes at it?" Tony teased his daughter, fully knowing what was taking her attention.

Evie looked up to see that both her dad and Peter were looking at her. Her dad with the smug look he always made when he had caught her doing something, and Peter with a clueless expression, looking like he didn't have any idea what the conversation was.

She rolled her eyes, sending a response to Max's text before putting her phone down. "I was not making puppy dog eyes. And for your information, it was Max," she said, going back to her laptop.

"Lover boy, Max, same person," Tony remarked.

"Who's Max?" Peter asked.

"Max is..." Evie trailed off, not knowing if Peter was even allowed to know.

Despite her and Max getting together only recently, they had readily agreed to keep their relationship a secret. Not because they were ashamed of it, never because of that (if it had been Max's choice, he would've told everyone he knew he was dating the Evie Stark, future CEO of Stark Industries) (and Evie would've been telling everyone she was dating the Max Verstappen, future F1 WDC).

It was because of the media, for the most part. They both knew how vicious news outlets and gossip columns were, considering they had a few stories come out about them and they didn't even do anything. Evie was familiar with being rumored to be in a relationship with every billionaire son who was in a close age range with her, so she had her fair share of rumors.

"Just tell the kid, he might be here for long enough to meet Max anyways," Tony shrugged.

Evie turned to Peter and said, "Whatever I'm about to tell you cannot leave this room,"

Peter quickly nodded and said, "I won't tell anyone,"

"I have a boyfriend," Evie said.

Peter blinked. "That's it?"

"Okay, I am so not loving the enthusiasm right now," she said.

"I mean, everyone gets boyfriends," Peter shrugged.

"I missed it when you were scared of me and thought I was going to terrorize you," Evie sighed.

"The rumors called you scary! I thought if I looked at you wrong, you were gonna yell at me!" Peter defended.

Evie rolled her eyes and said, "The only reason why I don't want a lot of people knowing is because he's a driver,"

"So what, he drives? I don't have my license yet but that's only 'cause we're in New York and who drives in New York besides Taxi Drivers and Business Men?"

Evie already felt a headache forming. "Not just a driver, a race car driver,"

"Like Dom Toretto? Is that why you're hiding your relationship, because he's older and illegally drives cars? Is he bald too?"

"What—no, Peter, I am dating someone that's our age and drives cars professionally and in no way illegal. And not bald!"

"Oh, who is he? Maybe I know him,"

"His name is Max Verstappen and I highly doubt you know him,"

"Verstappen? Isn't he that driver guy that drove for F1 and Mr Stark talked to him once?"

"Ha, I want you to refer to Jos as 'that driver guy' and see how he reacts," Tony cackled.

"It's not Jos, it's his son. And don't say that ever again, I do not want that insinuation in my mind," Evie gagged.

"Did you guys meet when Mr Stark's nearly died in Monaco?" Peter questioned, the relationship piquing his interest.

It wasn't every day you'd be able to hear the relationship details from someone as well-known as Evie Stark, especially since she had made him swear he wouldn't say anything. Also since a driver wasn't someone he expected Evie to be interested in. Peter thought that she would be dating a billionaire's son or the son of a superhero.

"We met when we were kids, actually. His dad knew mine, and I'm pretty sure Jos was trying to get on Dad's good side using me. But now I'm dating his son and he can't get rid of me so that backfired on him since he and Dad just bicker all the time whenever they see each other," she told him.

"You don't like him, Mr Stark?"

"More like I don't like how he treats his son sometimes, but that's neither here nor there. I just try to make sure the kid gets to be a kid with Evie sometimes," Tony said.

Peter was about to ask one more question, but Evie's phone started to buzz incessantly, indicating someone was calling her.

And based on how Evie's eyes lit up and how she smiled, Peter could only guess that it was Max. "Can I..." Evie trailed off, looking at her dad.

Tony rolled his eyes and said, "Go,"

Evie stood up from her chair and gave a brief hug to Tony and a wave to Peter then said, "Talk to you guys later!"

( 2016 )

"You don't have to watch every race. The time difference is too much, especially here in Spain and you're in New York," Max spoke into the phone.

"Nonsense, if I don't watch every race, then I can't say that I'm the biggest Max Verstappen fan since day one, can I?" Evie replied.

Max smiled at that. Despite Evie regularly insisting she was the original Max Verstappen fan, he still couldn't get used to how much faith she had in him. At this point, it had been 4 to 5 years since he had asked her to be his girlfriend, and she still was so confident in his abilities to reach F1 that he had actually managed to achieve it.

Being together this long was impressive, especially since they were still young and long distance for the most part due to Max's career. But both of them were willing to make it work and put in the effort that was needed to keep the relationship strong. Like daily phone calls and text messages throughout the day helped them.

"Besides, I was already awake so I might as well stay up for a little longer to watch your race," Evie casually said, but Max knew better.

"Did you stay up late again? You know how messed up your sleep schedule is," he lightly scolded her.

Evie had a habit of staying up to work on projects, which she got from Tony. From what he knew, she mainly worked on her dad's Iron Man suits and Peter's Spider-Man suit. There were many sleepless nights Max had spent with Evie when he was over in New York, trying to convince Evie to go to sleep. Most of the time it worked, but other times, he resigned himself to staying up with Evie so she had someone to be with, even if she was focused on her project and wasn't very talkative.

"I'll go to sleep right after your race, promise," she said to appease him, which it kind of did (he would've preferred she sleeps now but he'll take what he can get).

"You wouldn't even miss anything, I probably won't even finish the race again with my luck," Max sighed.

He heard rustling from the other side and Max could just tell that Evie had sat up indignantly, ready to scold him. "Max, you can't say that!" she said, sounding angry at him on his behalf.

"Look, Schat, I'm just being realistic. It's a miracle if I even finish a race," he told her.

"That's not very future World Champion of you,"

"World Champions would finish races," he countered.

"Maxie, you're not gonna win anything—"

"Well, thanks for the words of encouragement,"

"If you let me finish, smartass, you'll hear me say you aren't gonna win anything with that mindset. And do you think that every World Champion is going to win automatically? It's a process, and you'll get better with time,"

"And how do you know?"

"Because you're Max Verstappen, and when you have your first WDC, I'll be the one beside you to tell you I told you so, and this time I'll be the Trophy Girlfriend," Evie teased.

( 2021 )

sinews has tweeted!

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f1 has tweeted!

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f1gossip has posted on instagram!

29402 likes

f1gossip: Max Verstappen seen with mystery woman 👀👀

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user1: all these angles and you guys couldn’t even get her face??

user2: even dispatch could’ve gotten her face come on guys

user3: HE GETS BITCHES???

user4: all these years we thought he was bitchless, he just knew how to hide it from us

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eviestark has posted on instagram!

liked by tonystark, peterparker, pepperpotts, and 9914509 others

eviestark: my world champion <3

i don't want to say i told you so but... i told you so

ive been in love with you ever since we were 15 and knew you'd become an f1 wdc for even longer than that.

happy 9-year anniversary and congrats to your first wdc (and many more to come)!

tagged: maxverstappen

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maxverstappen: I love you schatje ❤︎ by eviestark and 56733 others

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